


Truth and Lies

by cascade (raynsora)



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - Corporate, Drama, Fluff and Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-22 15:59:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 47,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3734839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raynsora/pseuds/cascade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>GOT7 are the managing directors of KZQ, one of Asia’s largest construction companies with Bambam, a third generation chaebol, as the head of the company. The members serve as Bambam’s core team and together, they face the challenges of expanding their company to be a major player on the world stage. However, cracks in the team begin to appear and betrayal is inevitable. Will the seven survive the trials?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning of the End

**Author's Note:**

> The inspiration  
> 
> 
> This work is pure fiction but I have tried to capture aspects of GOT7’s individuality. Hopefully you see the references to things they have said and done.
> 
> sincerely, C

Youngjae checked his wristwatch once more as he made his way to the boardroom. He only had little time to hastily acknowledge the various wishes of ‘good morning’ thrown his way by the staff. He wanted to return their greetings with a smile as he always did but not today. Today, everything they had worked on for the last year could fall apart. Hastily, he threw open the heavy wooden doors but his anxious eyes saw only an empty meeting room. Sighing in frustration, he shoved his hair out of his eyes and plopped down into one of the empty chairs that lined the round meeting table. He checked the time again and knew that though he was early, he had been sure the others would be worried as well and should have checked in to the company. Drumming his fingers on the table, Youngjae’s tired mind continued to mull over the largest project their company had taken on in the new millennium.  
  
The company had worked tirelessly to procure a deal to build the country’s most luxurious hotel on Jeju’s neighbouring island, Hoonan. The idea seemed infallible – easy access to one of the world’s seven wonders treasured by the country and yet, because they were not building on Jejuisland itself, they were not restricted to the strict regulations imposed on it by the world’s governing bodies. It was perfect! If they were allowed to do as they wished to Hoonan, they were confident that they would have one of the best resorts in the world!  
  
Everything had seemed to go according to plan during the planning and proposal stages when all of a sudden, they were hit by a slew of protests from a rival company about how they were purportedly going to destroy the entire eco-system. The baseless accusations caught fire all too easily on SNS and now the company was seen to be a good-for-nothing money hungry heartless bane to society. Reading the comments fuelled by politicians greedy for the limelight had kept Youngjae up the previous night. Remembering the comments again made Youngjae groan. Where were the guys?  
  
Then, the doors opened and Youngjae looked up hopefully. In walked Mark who was usually the earliest to arrive.  
  
‘Where have you been? Have you seen the news? What are we going to do?’ asked Youngjae, getting up so hastily that he knocked over the chair he had been sitting on. Mark held up his hand in a small gesture that seemed aimed at calming Youngjae down.  
  
‘Youngjae, Youngjae. Don’t be so worried. We’ll be fine,’ assured Mark as he too sat down at the round table.  
  
Youngjae inhaled deeply, picked up his chair and though his ears were beginning to go slightly red for losing his cool, addressed Mark, ‘How can you be so sure, Mark? This is big. The public hates us now.’  
  
Mark looked up from his pda that he had just taken out. ‘Our project does not rely on public approval. We have all the approval we need,’ answered Mark in his usual low tone. A man of few words, Mark exuded such a quiet confidence that Youngjae was inclined to be assuaged. If Mark didn’t see a problem, then there shouldn’t be one.  
  
‘Well, if – if you say so,’ said Youngjae though it was clear his anxiety hadn’t abated. Mark could see this. He was known to be the silent one in the group but he always kept an eye on what was going on. His attention to detail was the reason why he was the company’s Chief Finance Officer. Mark knew that Youngjae was truly worried.  
  
‘Look, Youngjae, the others will be here soon. All I know is that there are no problems on my end’, said Mark, his tone gentler and warmer. Youngjae gulped and nodded.  
  
Just then the doors opened again and both Youngjae and Mark turned to see who had arrived. Jinyoung and Yugyeom greeted them with cheerful smiles.  
  
‘We had breakfast together today,’ Jinyoung informed them as he took his seat.  
  
‘Yeah, my mum’s in the country,’ added Yugyeom. ‘So Jinyoung wanted a home-cooked breakfast. Seems he misses it,’ Yugyeom grinned. His smile disappeared quite fast however, when he noticed the worry on Youngjae’s face.  
  
‘What’s wrong, Youngjae?’ Yugyeom asked.  
  
‘Ah, I know why,’ Jinyoung chimed in with a small smile playing on his lips. ‘It must be all those malicious reports about the company and how we’re hell bent on destroying the earth and hence, all humanity, am I right?’  
  
‘Jinyoung hyung, if you know about all that, how can you two have breakfast so happily?’ Youngjae retorted.  
  
‘Youngjae ah, you should really know how we work by now, especially what we are capable of.’ Jinyoung rested his chin on his entwined fingers as he placed his elbows on the table. ‘There is nothing, I repeat, nothing that the seven of us together can’t do.’  
  
Youngjae looked into Jinyoung’s clear confident eyes, those eyes that were always kind but yet, sometimes had a deeper shadow in them that Youngjae could never really understand. ‘You’re right, Jinyounghyung. If anyone can get through this, we can,’ said Youngjae, trying very much to have utter belief in his own words.  
  
They waited for another thirty minutes before anyone else walked through the door. Sometimes they made light conversation but mostly, they were silent, each wrapped up in their own thoughts as the atmosphere gradually grew heavier and heavier. Despite the seeming optimism portrayed by those in the meeting room, they were all actually worried.  
  
Finally, ten minutes after their meeting was supposed to start, the doors swung open once more.  
  
‘Yoyoyo guys! Good morning!’ Jackson practically yelled as he marched through the doors with one hand tightly grasping the shirt’s back collar of the other member with him. ‘Sorry we’re slightly late. Had to drag this guy out of his bed this morning,’ Jackson explained, giving the guy next to him a shake.  
  
‘Hyuung ~’ whined Bambam with a mock hurt expression on his face as he looked at Jackson. ‘I slept late that’s why.’  
‘Yeah, and why was that? Worried about your company? Nope! You were playing games the entire night,’ retorted Jackson as he finally let go of Bambam.  
  
‘Hey, things like that make me miserable so why dwell on them? Better to have fun right?’ complained Bambam as he made his way to the chair that was right in the centre. It was his spot because he was the son of the company’s big boss. He, Bambam, was the third generation chaebol of one of the largest construction companies in Asia.  
  
The other guys showed mixed reactions to his comment because they had all tried their best to respond to the growing allegations and antagonism the best way they could; Mark had worked to keep their company’s largest shareholders well informed, Jinyoung who was in charge of the legal side of things had gone over the contracts and agreements they had signed on the Hoonan deal with a fine-toothed comb, Yugyeom had been plagued by the media because he was in charge of public relations (thankfully his mother’s presence had stopped him from turning into a manic wreck), Youngjae had found it necessary to plan ahead on how to handle any possible employee backlash because he was in charge of Human Resource and finally, Jackson, in charge of the company’s operations as Bambam’s right hand man had spent the entire night tracking down the various construction companies that had promised to work with them to make sure they were still on board.  
  
Jackson, in particular, rubbed his tired eyes as he took the seat next to Bambam. Watching Bambam give a large gaping yawn, they inwardly wished that Bambam would take on more responsibility and behave as the head of the company. He was young, perhaps too young, but his father was in ill-health and had insisted that Bambam take over. His father had met the six guys and asked that they help his son become the leader that he could be. They had listened seriously and vowed to do their best. Thus, though Bambam was sometimes a wee bit too playful and impulsive to do the company any favours, the guys still worked hard for him. They did it not only out of responsibility but because they did love him as a friend. It’s just… it gets difficult at times.  
  
‘I’ve filled Bambam in on the situation on the way over and it seems everything is alright except for that one particular NGO that refuses to back down,’ reported Jackson.  
  
‘That’s the one who’s spreading the rumours, turns out the group felt slighted because we had chosen to work with another NGO,’ Yugyeom informed the group.  
  
Jinyoung sighed loudly. ‘Seriously, that NGO is questionable. Reading their proposal gave me a headache because there were so many loopholes. Who else contradicts themselves in a single-paged document?’  
  
‘Yeah, they are a problem. So how are we going to deal with them? Back then it was fine to ignore them but now that they’ve got Senator Song on board, they have extra weight to throw around,’ Youngjae said.  
  
‘Deal with them we must,’ added Mark whose brow had grown increasingly furrowed as the discussion continued. ‘Once and for all. We cannot allow them to set a precedent.’  
  
‘Ah, that’s why I met with JB last night. We just have to wait for –’ Jackson was cut short when the doors opened again for the fourth time that morning.  
  
‘Speak of the devil!’ Jackson cried aloud as JB walked into the room with a folder in his left hand. ‘So how did it go?’  
  
JB tossed the folder on the table and sat down. ‘Problem solved. There won’t be another squeak from the NGO which, by the way, will disband by this time next week,’ said JB.  
  
‘Brilliant! That’s our man JB!’ exclaimed Jackson as he exchanged an air fist-bump with JB who smirked as well in return.  
  
‘But how? How did you do it?’ asked Youngjae, his worried expression clearing.  
  
‘Ah, I have my ways,’ said JB with a smug crooked smile.  
  
Youngjae nodded in response. If JB, the one all of them trusted the most, said it was over, it was over. Leaning back with a sigh of relief at last, Youngjae’s usual bright smile slid back into place.  
  
‘Wah, as expected from JB,’ teased Yugyeom, giving JB a punch on his shoulder.  
  
Even reserved Mark smiled.  
  
‘See? There’s nothing to worry about!’ Bambam said as he threw his hands in the air. ‘So let’s get down to business. Who are we choosing to be Hoonan’s spokesperson?’ his eyes bright as he contemplated the range of actresses and idols they could pick from.  
  
Jackson bit back a sigh and slapped Bambam on the shoulder. ‘That’s all you’ve ever cared about from the beginning right?’ his expression both irritated and indulgent.


	2. Just Another Day

Jackson returned to his personal office with steps that were slightly heavier than usual. He still stomped as he walked, it was a habit he couldn’t break, but today, the meeting had taken more out of him than he had realised. Listening and having to participate in a two-hour long discussion about the merits of this actress or that idol which often went wildly off topic was not what he needed after spending nights chasing after their business partners. Once he had checked for updates with his personal secretary, he instructed that no one disturb him for the next hour.

He opened the door and breathed in the delicious scent of Burberry’s newest perfume that he had instructed to be sprayed once in a while on his upholstery. He closed the door behind him as he stepped into the dark room. It shut with a satisfyingly loud click.

Rather than switching on the lights, Jackson swung his body over the back of his couch in one effortless leap and landed on it with a loud flump. With an arm over his eyes, his other hand loosened his tie and unbuttoned his collar. The moment he did that, it was easier to breathe. Business attire was not his favourite and it also didn’t help that his neck was thicker than others. He often felt choked but thought it was a good reminder to watch his words at times. He was known to talk too much anyways.

Slowly, he relaxed his muscles one by one through a breathing technique he had learned from his father. First, the shoulders, then the arms, then the wrists, then the fingers. Then his chest, his abdomen and – his consciousness began to leave him. He needed to sleep…

KLACK!

Jackson jumped and sat up in a rush, his eyes flicked instantly to the opened door.

‘Oh, it’s you, hyung,’ Jackson murmured in relief as he recognised the outline of JB’s wide shoulders in the silhouette. He flopped back down on his couch, arm over his eyes again.

The instruction not to be disturbed did not apply to any of the seven KZQ managing directors. They were known to barge into each other’s offices without warning, sometimes to hilarious results like the time he and Youngjae had walked in on Mark and Jinyoung in a compromising position. It turned out Jinyoung had needed help with his bracelet that had somehow gotten tangled in his hair. The sight of Mark’s arms around Jinyoung as Jinyoung rested his head on Mark’s shoulder, however, was enough to make Jackson and Youngjae whoop and howl like madmen. Neither did Jinyoung and Mark’s flustered explanations and flushed cheeks do anything to stop the teasing. They never let Markjin (they had coined the name) forget it and didn’t plan to erase it from memory anytime soon. 

Jackson flinched when JB switched on the lights but didn’t get up even as JB sat down on the couch opposite his.

‘Jackson,’ JB said in a tone that Jackson knew meant that JB wanted to talk about something serious.

‘Hmm?’ Jackson replied, his arm shielding his eyes from the light.

‘Jackson,’ repeated JB in the same tone.

Reluctantly, Jackson dropped his arm from his eyes and turned his head to look at JB.

‘Yeah, hyung?’ Jackson murmured in the low raspy voice that indicated he was tired out.

‘I didn’t have time to ask you yesterday night because we were in a rush but where did you get such information on Senator Song?’ JB asked, his eyes sharp as he studied Jackson’s reaction to the question.

Jackson shrugged. ‘You have your ways, hyung, I have mine.’

JB’s eyes narrowed into slits. ‘Jackson, how did you get the information?’

Sighing loudly, Jackson pushed himself into a sitting position and ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Hyung, what good will it do you to know about my sources?’

‘What good? It’s for me to know that you’re not doing anything wrong, Jackson,’ replied JB, still studying Jackson carefully.

Jackson returned JB’s watchful look. ‘Hyung, in our world, wrong is subjective.’

‘What?’ replied JB below his breath, almost startled at such a reply. It wasn’t that Jackson didn’t have dark moments. JB knew Jackson well enough to know that all the hype, laughter and screams were only a part of his real person. The real Jackson, the one people rarely glimpsed, was this one – serious, brooding and darn difficult to figure out. JB was one of the few individuals on earth who was privy to this particular Jackson and it drove JB insane!

‘Hyung, listen,’ Jackson sighed. ‘I did not break any laws. I did not commit any crime. No human, animal or living being was harmed in the process,’ Jackson continued, with a hint of his usual snide humour. ‘It was information that wasn’t all unknown, hyung. It just took a little digging to find proof, that’s all – and,’ continued Jackson quickly because JB showed signs of interrupting, ‘I did not ask for any favours and neither am I henceforth required to return any. It’s fine, JB. Don’t worry.’

JB watched Jackson silently for a while before saying very seriously, ‘Jackson, you know I trust you right? And that I value you more than any business deal on earth?’

‘Whoa, hyung, what’s gotten into you all of a sudden?’ Jackson practically squealed in reply, curling his body away from JB as if utterly repelled by the sudden display of affection.

JB had to chuckle at the reaction that was so Jackson. ‘You rascal. All I’m saying is that no matter how you want to help KZQ, the one thing you should never compromise on are your values. I know you believe that, I just wanted to check if you still held to it.’

‘Hmph,’ scoffed Jackson. ‘Of course, hyung! The Jackson you see now is the same Jackson you met when you were in your late teens. Besides, I’m not the one who made Senator Song throw in the towel. You did that all on your own,’ Jackson teased with wiggled eyebrows. ‘How did you make him bend, hyung? Since we’re having such a sincere heartfelt discussion.’

In a flash, the sight of Senator Song’s angry but increasingly blanched face crossed JB’s mind. Truly, JB hadn’t laid a hand on him. All JB had done was to… talk. In that sense, JB’s hands were clean. One might call it excessive threats but JB preferred to think of it as a friendly warning. Don’t mess with something that will only hurt you more in return, simple enough to understand really. Besides, resorting only to physical force showed a lack of finesse and with JB, his charisma added more than adequate force to show he and his team were not to be messed with.

It was JB’s turn to scoff. ‘Jackson, Jackson. I do not want to be held responsible for corrupting a precious dongsaeng of mine. Besides, you handed me the weapon, so to speak. All I had to do was to aim it well,’ replied JB with the beginnings of his signature toothy grin.

‘Ah, truly, JB is JB,’ Jackson laughed. ‘You know, hyung, maybe you should take over the company. You’re a born leader. Bambam still needs to grow up so much,’ continued Jackson, his laugh turning into a tired sigh.

‘He is young, Jackson, and our duty is to stand by him until he can stand on his own. And even then, to continue standing by him’ JB stated. JB had made up his mind from the day he accepted his position as Director of Development to carry out his responsibilities to the fullest. Besides, he loved his team and felt a kinship that was hard to explain in words. It was just something embedded in the core of his soul and it gave him the motivation to keep going.

‘Ah, enough chatter. You need rest, we all need rest. At least this hurdle is over,’ JB said as he stood up. Jackson mirrored his actions to stand as well.

Without warning, JB closed the gap between them and grasped Jackson in a bearhug. JB wasn’t sure what he was trying to convey except perhaps to show Jackson that he was a very treasured and loved friend, practically family. Jackson was slightly taken aback but returned the hug, matching JB’s intensity. Being two of the most built among the seven, the hug soon became a competition to see who would fold first.

This time, it was Jackson. ‘Hyung,’ Jackson coughed. ‘Hyung, if you’re trying to kill me,’ wheezed Jackson, ‘you’re succeeding.’

JB released him with a laugh. He clapped Jackson on the shoulder, rapped Jackson’s forehead with his knuckles and left with a smile. Jackson watched JB go and even after the door had closed, Jackson remained standing.

Jackson shoved his hands in his pockets and walked over to a window, one of the many that formed the entire wall of his office. He looked at the Seoul skyline for a while when his brow suddenly furrowed. ‘Not now. Not yet,’ Jackson mouthed silently. ‘Well, time to work,’ Jackson thought to himself and headed resolutely to his laptop.

There was a lot to do still before dinner. Because it was difficult these days for all seven of them to gather together, they were going to have a meal to celebrate and just hang out– something they hadn’t done for a while.

*             *             *             *

Bambam practically skipped as he headed back to his office. He considered the meeting an absolute success all round! He knew the extra work he had put in into thinking of reasons to choose Taeyeon from Girl’s Generation as the CF model for their Hoonan project would pay off. ‘Gee geegeegee, baby babybaby,’ Bambam sang to himself as he did the crab dance to the door of his office. His secretarial team didn’t bat an eye at his behaviour. They knew he was a big fan of Taeyeon. In fact, the whole company knew, from the directors right down to the janitors.

His personal assistants flung the doors open for Bambam so all he had to do was to dance right in. Though the décor of his spacious office, almost a penthouse, was stately and designed to reflect the stoic character of his father, Bambam’s personal touch could be seen in the various action figures that lined the shelves and the display of an amazing range of hi-tech toys and gadgets scattered across the room.

Bambam immediately headed to the fridge to get an ice-cold coke before prancing to his large armchair, even managing to do a light twirl before he sat down with a satisfied grin. Taeyeon it is and Bambam allowed his imagination to come up with scenarios where he’d be able to talk to her and maybe even have dinner!

Happy from his success, he glanced around at the stately CEO office, his eye lingering for a few moments on the portraits of his father and grandfather. Looking at them caused the heavy weight of his responsibilities to descend on his shoulders. Bambam sighed. He knew that to some people, it seemed as if he wasn’t being the filial son who would sacrifice every waking moment into making sure that the company kept it’s prominence in the industry. It’s just that he had his own dreams, his own desires but being the sole heir meant that he had to put those dreams aside.

As he closed his eyes, his memory returned to when JB, Mark, Jinyoung, Jackson, Youngjae and Yugyeom were formally introduced to him as the new generation of KZQ. He had already seen them around the company or at least at events that KZQ had organised. Some, like JB and Jinyoung, had family members who themselves were instrumental to KZQ while others like Mark, Jackson and Youngjae had proven their mettle very early on either in the company itself or in other fields. Yugyeom was the one exception to this because he had been Bambam’s friend and coursemate throughout his academic years. It was his father who had hand-picked the six of them and for once, he agreed with his father’s choices. If not for them, he would certainly not be where he was today.

A bright smile formed on Bambam’s lips. Together, he felt that the seven of them could handle everything and with them around, he didn’t have to worry about things at all! Slurping the last of his coke, he suddenly remembered the new drone he had gotten a couple of days ago. Springing out of his seat, he seizedits controls and started to whizz the disc-like device around the room.

It was this scene that greeted Jinyoung’s eyes as he walked in. ‘Bambam,’ he called to get his boss’ attention. He needed to get Bambam’s signature on some documents.

Bambam whipped his head around. ‘Oh, Jinyounghyung!’ he greeted with a wave, taking his eyes off the drone for the split second it needed to crash into the wall with a sharp crunch. ‘Oops,’ mouthed Bambam but his attention was too focused on Jinyoung to care. He’d just get another one.

‘What is it, hyung? Do you wanna play? I’ve got another drone somewhere,’ rattled Bambam excitedly as he raced to a cabinet nearby and began rummaging in it. ‘There’s definitely one here. It’s slightly older so not as fast as that one but it’s still super fun! See, they say you can’t make it do flips but all you need is to pull back on the toggle very hard. Timing is everything! Just wait and see, hyung, even Jackson hyung likes the drone – now where did I put it?’

‘Bambam, now’s not the time for that,’ Jinyoung said with a loud click of his tongue. He had already taken a seat at the CEO’s desk. He motioned for Bambam to come over.

‘Aw, hyung, what is it now?’ Bambam asked. ‘I don’t see you often enough as it is and now you only want to talk about serious stuff,’ he pouted.

‘Listen, you need to sign these and there’s no way you’re going to listen to my assistants long enough to understand what these papers mean. So sit down and I’ll tell you what they are,’ Jinyoung said firmly. It was true. The reason why Jinyoung always met Bambam personally when it came to such vital matters was that he knew Bambam tended to just sign anything that was placed on his desk without asking any questions. Jinyoung proceeded to explain the legal ramifications of what the company was agreeing to which took up most of the day. By the time they were done, Bambam was close to tears.

‘Hyung,’ pleaded Bambam, ‘can we stop now?’

Jinyoung looked at his watch. ‘Goodness, that took longer than expected. I’ve got things to finish up before dinner. See you then,’ Jinyoung said by way of goodbye and left in a hurry.

‘Later, hyung!’ yelled Bambam, glad to see him go. He loved Jinyoung but when Jinyoung was in work-mode, Bambam tried his best to stay away.

‘Right, dinner!’ Bambam remembered. He pushed a button for a secretary to make the arrangements. If there was one thing Bambam was good at, it was having fun and boy, he was determined that they relive old times tonight.


	3. Old Times

“KANBEI!” Seven glasses clinked and its contents simultaneously downed in one go. Hisses of satisfaction followed as the alcohol blazed its way down their throats.

“Kyah~” hissed JB, “it’s been a while since I last had soju.” He held out his cup to Yugyeom who had motioned that he’d like to pour JB another drink.

It was a clear, breezy night and after having samgyupsal, an old favourite among the seven, the guys had adjourned to have a drink at the small night time stall by the Han River they had often frequented before they became too busy. There was no way Bambam was going to allow them to go their separate ways after dinner, not until they enjoyed each other’s company a bit more.

Jackson clenched his teeth as he grimaced. “Soju was never my favourite,” he coughed. “And now I remember why. Is there any whisky around?”

“Oh you baby!” Jinyoung said with a grin as he grabbed Jackson’s wrist in order to pour more soju into his cup.

“Hey hey hey! Park Jin Young!” Jackson exclaimed as he half-heartedly tried to jerk his wrist out of Jinyoung’s grasp.

“You picked up every Korean custom but not our love for soju?!” Jinyoung asked, switching his laugh into a sudden fierce and manic glare which seemed to put a halt to the protests on Jackson’s lips.

“Fine, fine! But you’re responsible for the consequences,” grumbled Jackson as he warily watched Jinyoung fill his cup with more soju.

“Guys, guys,” Bambam raised his voice as he flung an arm around Yugyeom’s neck, half-choking him, “we’ve not been able to spend time together for so long! No fighting tonight!”

“So long?” asked Youngjae who was already on his second cup of soju, “we just went to Singapore two weeks ago.”

“Youngjae hyung, that was for work!” Bambam retorted, still holding a grudge for not being able to go on every single ride at least twice in Universal Studios Singapore. “We were cooped up in meetings the whole time -”

“- AND managed to sign an agreement with the biggest developer in Singapore,” JB reminded Bambam.

“Hyung! No mention of work tonight! CEO’s orders!”Bambam said as he banged his fist on the table while attempting to have a no-nonsense look on his face – but failing badly. It only caused the other six guys to laugh and Bambam joined in readily.

“Yes sir!” Yugyeom responded with salute.

Bambam beamed as he watched the guys continue chatting, mostly teasing each other and catching up on news. That was the problem when they wereeach so good at their jobs and in charge of an army of employees. They rarely had time to spend together and he missed it.

After quite a few soju bottles were drained dry, Bambam suggested that they go for a walk along the river to which the guys readily agreed. It would be pleasant and the place held a lot of memories for the group anyways.

Perhaps it was due to the alcohol but spending time together without worrying about work helped them shed a few years, almost returning to their late teen and early twenty year old selves. Instead of behaving like the directors of a huge multi-billion dollar company, they were seven ordinary guys again, just like when they had first begun to work together as a team before they were given the responsibilities they now bore.

The guys had long since discarded their blazers and were now in white shirts, collars all unbuttoned. In all appearances, they were just casual guys messing about. Sometimes random chases would break out, piggy backs given or forced and chokeholds thrown around (mostly courtesy of JB) while their shouts and laughter filled the night air.

As the night wore on, the seven guys were to be found sprawled out on the grassy river bank. Looking up at the night sky with the sound of the river flowing in the background, they shared a comfortable silence.

“I miss this,” said Bambam.

“Yeah,” murmured Yugyeom as the rest mostly hummed in agreement.

“By the way, Mark hyung,” Yugyeom called.

“Yeah?” answered Mark.

“Remember when we had to come to the Han River that night for stuff? Jinyoung hyung was with us too.”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I’ve been curious about one thing for a while, actually.”

“What is it?” Mark asked, his voice showing that he was a little wary about the direction Yugyeom’s questions were going.

“Do you still have that mole on your chest?”

“What?!” asked Mark in shock, an incredulous look plastered on his face as he propped himself up on his elbow to see if Yugyeom was joking. The next thing he knew, Yugyeom had launched himself at him and was pretending to undo the buttons of his shirt. “Come on, hyung, you were showing it off last time,” said Yugyeom, laughing as his fingers tickled Mark’s ribs.

“YAH!!!” roared Mark as he struggled to push Yugyeom’s bulk off him. Yugyeom was doing well in resisting, managing to keep Mark pinned to the ground. The rest of the guys, though, were just enjoying the show. Yugyeom loved messing with his hyungs. Jinyoung, for one, was glad he wasn’t the target.

“Come on, Mark!” yelled Jackson. “Put some effort into it, man!”

“Gah~” grunted Mark who managed to shoot a sharp glance at Jackson as he struggled to roll Yugyeom’s body off him, “I’d like to see you try!”

“Little old me?” Jackson asked, fluttering his eyelashes with a coquettish wave of his hand, “I wouldn’t _dream_ of it.”

Most of the guys were already sitting up by this time and were grinning as Mark’s strength visibly dissipated. Yugyeom was still laughing when he finally managed to pin both Mark’s wrists to the ground.

“Say you love me, hyung,” Yugyeom teased while the rest howled with laughter that was also punctuated with wolf whistles.

“Yah~” growled Mark, his low voice deeper than usual, “get off me.”

“Come on, hyung, just say it,” Yugyeom was relentless, even throwing a wink at Mark who clearly did not have the energy to break Yugyeom’s hold.

That was the thing about the group. They teased each other mercilessly in this manner all the time but knew that it meant nothing except love among family. Maybe it was because they all understood this that they were comfortable enough to joke about it. Some liked to joke more than others – Yugyeom, being the youngest, was one of them.

Mark’s face was beet red by this time, both from his spent strength and continuing embarrassment. “IF you don’t get off by the time I count to three,” Mark threatened through clenched teeth, “you’re so going to regret it.”

“What will you do, hyung?” challengedYugyeom with a grin because they all knew that there really wasn’t much Mark could do.

It was Jackson who took pity on Mark and decided to intervene. Though the seven guys were really very close, some bonds were deeper than others. Jackson and Mark, for example, were very attuned to each other’s moods and thoughts and could communicate without words which was why Jackson knew that though Mark enjoyed teasing others and being teased himself, he wasn’t enjoying it right then.

“Hey Yugyeom,” Jackson interjected, “What are you going to do about that blind date next week? Are you going? She’s really pretty.”

Yugyeom looked up in utter surprise and for that split second, his grip on Mark loosened. Mark instantly seized the opportunity to throwYugyeom off and rolled away, his eyes locked on Yugyeom just in case he decided to spring another attack.

“H-how did you know about that, hyung?” Yugyeom asked Jackson in bewilderment as he rubbed his chest where Mark had shoved him. It was true that his family had told him about the date they wanted him to go for but no one else could have known about it, surely.

“Ah, I talk to people, I hear things,” Jackson replied with a wide grin. “I like to keep an ear close to the ground.”

“Well, that shouldn’t be too hard considering you’re the shortest here,” said Jinyoung nonchalantly before hastily getting up. Without wasting another moment, he immediately began tearing down the river bank in a dead sprint because he knew exactly how Jackson would react to such a comment.

True enough, Jackson had jumped to his feet with a howl and was chasing after him. They were good runners, one was graceful while the other was powerful, and there wasn’t much to choose between them though Jinyoung had a slight upper hand. Both ran as fast as they could and had covered a few hundred meters before Jinyoung slowed down. He had just decided to get caught. Sensing this, Jackson tackled Jinyoung to the ground and immediately climbed on top of him.

“That,” Jackson said breathlessly between deep gulps of air as he looked down on the handsome flushed face beneath him, “was uncalled for, Park Jin Young.”

Jinyoung, gasping for breath himself, didn’t reply. Instead, he reached up to pat Jackson’s cheek playfully. “There, there,” he said when he got his breath back, “Did someone get upset?”

“I’m older than you six months, bro!” Jackson reminded him.

“So?” Jinyoung asked.

“So,” Jackson paused to think. “So nothing really,” he said before his high-pitched laugh burst from his lips. “Let’s go back… after I recover,” he said, flopping down next to Jinyoung.

“Not as young as we once were,” Jinyoung commented.

“Nope,” replied Jackson.

“Sad, isn’t it?” said Jinyoung.

“Yeah,” sighed Jackson. Just then, Jinyoung happened to glance at Jackson and saw a frown on his face but what concerned Jinyoung most was the sudden sad look in Jackson’s eyes. Jinyoung didn’t want to pry but there was something going on with Jackson. Something was bothering him and he didn’t seem to want to tell anyone about it. Neither did Jinyoung want to ask. Maybe it just wasn’t time? Jackson will tell them if and when he was ready to do so.

They remained silent for a while longer and then without words, Jinyoung got up, dusted off his pants, reached out his hand for Jackson to take and yanked him to his feet. They walked back together, arms around each other’s shoulders.

By the time they got back, they discovered that the fried chicken they had ordered by phone earlier hadarrived. They eagerly joined the five guys now clustered around the boxes that were already close to half empty. They ate, chatted some more and gradually, the din died down again. JB looked at his watch, it was already the wee hours of the morning.

“We’ve still got to work tomorrow,” JB said, a hint of regret in his voice.

“Aw… hyung ~ why did you have to spoil the mood?” whined Bambam.

“Well, _boss_ , we’ve got a bigger boss to answer to,” said JB, his left eyebrow arched.

Yugyeom chuckled and gave an almighty yawn and stretch with his arms high above his head, “We do have to go. It’s been fun though. Thanks Bammie.”

“Alright, alright. Let’s finish up and go,” Bambam relented.

Without looking, both JB and Jackson reached into the same fried chicken box but instead of grasping the last chicken wing that had been there moments before, their hands came up empty.

“WHO TOOK THE LAST CHICKEN WING?!” yelled JB and Jackson indignantly at the exact same moment, both their eyes glaring. Then came a few seconds of absolute silence as everything seemed to freeze. Nobody moved or said anything and then an instant later, all seven of them dissolved into hysterics – they howled, they hooted, they wheezed, they gasped, they cried. It was a great throwback to a memorable tumultuous time they had together as a team. This time though, turns out Youngjae had eaten the last one. Having learned from previous experience, Youngjae fessed up immediately.

Wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, Jinyoung commented “We never will change, will we? Together as seven!”

His statement was echoed with loud ayes from the guys but if one listened closely, Jackson’s cheer was not as enthusiastic as it could have been. Jinyoung was the only one who noticed this while the others were distracted. He was about to say something when there was an enormous clap of thunder while flashes of lighting illuminated the night sky.

“That’s odd,” said Mark with a frown, “there was no sign of rain.”

“We’ve got to go,” said JB, clearing up the last remnants of their picnic as the first raindrops fell. They each dashed back to their cars after hasty good byes and went home, mostof the guys happy and contented because they had had a great time but two of them were abnormally subdued. Jinyoung was deep in thought while Jackson stared blankly out of his car’s window.

Together though they were, things were beginning to change – and not for the better.


	4. Ignorance is Bliss

A few weeks later, Bambam had checked into the presidential suite of his dad’s Jeju Island hotel, accompanied by Jackson and Yugyeom because he had not wanted to go for the business trip alone. Essentially, the trip’s main purpose was to make sure that all preparation for their Hoonan Island development project was complete. At least, that was the responsibility delegated to Jackson while Yugyeom was there to ensure that the press conference announcing the commencement of the project went smoothly. Bambam, of course, was to make the formal announcement and speech.

Thus, Jackson was to be found in Bambam’s room the next morning. After waking Bambam up, Jackson was lounging around waiting for him to get ready as they were due on Hoonan Island in an hour. As Jackson glanced around the room, his eyes fell on the desk. Right there, sprawled all over it were the official documents necessary for the day (it was to be a formal ceremony with ribbon-cutting and more official documents to sign). That, and the fact that the company’s seal, held only by the CEO, was lying carelessly out in the open made Jackson frown.

‘It’s too easy, Bambam’ thought Jackson resentfully, ‘why are you making it so easy?’ If Jackson had intended to cause trouble for KZQ, he could easily tamper with the papers and throw the company into a whirlwind. The question was – did he?

The memory of a particular man’s voice and face came back to haunt Jackson. The man always seemed to pop into his mind whenever Jackson let his guard down – and Jackson hated it.

It all started roughly a couple of months ago when the seven of them had gone to Singapore. Jackson had stayed an extra day to spend some time with his godfather but if he had known what it would lead to and what was in store for him, Jackson would have gladly flown off with the other six. Oh, how he wished he had done so.

*             *             *

Jackson had been enjoying himself as he exchanged news with his godfather, whom Jackson had called ‘father’ since he was young. They were seated comfortably in the living room of his godfather’s high-rise condominium, talking about everything under the sun and laughing at old memories when all of a sudden, his godfather became very solemn.

“You don’t remember much, do you?” his godfather asked, his expression oddly unreadable.

“Remember what?” asked Jackson as he fidgeted in his seat, slightly discomfited at the sudden change of mood.

“About… your life before you came to stay with me,” his godfather hedged suggestively. It seemed to Jackson that his godfather wanted him to do the talking.

“Well,” Jackson said thoughtfully as he both tried to answer the question and figure out where his godfather was going with this, “I remember coming to you when I was ten cause my parents died in an accident. You told me to get used to calling you dad. At first I couldn’t but I tried hard.”

“Do you remember what else I told you?”

‘We’re not done yet?’ thought Jackson as he racked his brains. “Um… you gave me a list of house rules, how I was supposed to clean up after myself, put dirty dishes in the sink, fold my clean clothes, lay out what I was going to wear-”

“Not that, not that,” dismissed his godfather with an impatient wave of his hand. “What else did I tell you? Something I told you to do because it was very, very important.”

Jackson fell silent for a while as he tried hard to remember those hazy first days with his godfather. He never really thought much about the early years of his childhood purely because he couldn’t really remember any of it. Everything was hazy though there were glimpses of scenes here and there, of feeling both happiness and sadness but it wasn’t really concrete. However, there was one feeling that he associated most with those days and that was the feeling of loss, of emptiness as if something precious had been taken from him.

“You… told me that I had to work hard?” suggested Jackson tentatively, knowing full well that it wasn’t what his godfather had wanted to hear.

“No, no, no! About your name, boy! Your name!” his godfather said, beginning to get agitated.

“What about-” began Jackson. “Oh!” Jackson’s eyes widened with comprehension, “You told me that I was no longer Jackson Wang, that I was Jackson Chong, after your family name. And that I should never tell anyone it.” Jackson vaguely remembered thinking that it was strange but he had done as he was told, especially when there was a beating involved if he didn’t. Being schooled in an American International School in Singapore, it was the romanized version of his name that was used for all official documents rather than the original Chinese character anyway. Still, the young Jackson had reasoned it was because his godfather had wanted him to feel like he was really his son. It had taken some getting used to but it worked out in the end. Look at where he was now.

“Yeah, I remember that, but why? Why bring it up?”

“Because,” his godfather sighed very heavily, “there’s someone you have to meet.”

A man came out from one of the guest rooms. This was someone Jackson had never seen before, at least not that he could remember, and Jackson’s first impression was that this man was strange. It wasn’t the chiselled, weather-worn look on his lined face which had a firmly set square jaw that surprised Jackson. Neither was it the man’s bleached blonde hair that stood out in stark contrast to the dark hue of his skin. It was the fact that this man wore sunglasses indoors. Underneath the casual clothes, the man was obviously well built and muscular with broad shoulders, the outline of his sinews showing through his skin. He walked with a swagger and without further ado, sat down on the armchair positioned between Jackson and his godfather. It was only then that Jackson noticed a large bulky brown envelope in the man’s hand.

Jackson’s eyes flickered between his godfather and the stranger. What was this? What was going on? Who was this man?

“Jackson,” the stranger said with a nod, “it’s been a while.”

Jackson nodded automatically in return. “Nice to meet you,” he said, etiquette kicking in. It wasn’t nice at all really. The man spoke with a very American drawl and for the life of him, Jackson could not guess what this man was doing here or why it was so important that they meet.

“You… don’t remember me then?” the man asked.

“I am sorry but I’m afraid I don’t,” Jackson answered cautiously, his eyes once again flicking back to his godfather for some sign about what to make of the situation.

The man took a deep breath, seemed to chew on something for a while and finally introduced himself.

“My name is Park Joon Hyung. And the last time you saw me was when you were ten.”

“Ten?” repeated Jackson. That was the age he started to live with his godfather. “I – I’m sorry but I don’t remember much from back then.”

“Joon is a very important man, Jackson,” his godfather added. “He saved your life.”

“W-what?” asked Jackson with a frown. Okay, it was already strange, now it was getting confusing. “My life? But what – how – I mean, when?” If his life had been in danger, surely he’d remember something.

Joon cleared his throat. “I,” Joon began but he had to take a moment before he could continue, “I’m sorry. I saved you and your mother but,” Joon had to stop again. “I couldn’t save your dad,” croaked Joon, his throat tight.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Jackson said, holding up his hands as he got to his feet. He had to, things were no longer making sense. “What do you – My mother? You saved my-? But my parents died. Both my parents died. That’s why I came to live with you!” Jackson’s attention was now fully on his godfather whose face was grave.

“What’s going on here, dad?” asked Jackson, his eyes silently pleading for his godfather to clear the confusion.

“He’s not your father, Jackson,” said Joon who sounded more composed now. “You know who your father is.”

“No, this – he _is_ my father,” insisted Jackson as he rounded on Joon with defiance etched on his face. “He’s taken care of me, given me a home, loved me-”

“Yes he has but he is not your _real_ father,” Joon repeated, a hint of steel in his voice now, “You are Jackson Wang, son of Wang Ryu-ji, CEO of HK Enterprises.”

Jackson took a deep breath to steady his racing pulse, “Yes, _that_ much I know. But it’s in the past. You told me to keep it in the past,” Jackson said as he looked at his godfather, his tone clearly expressing his confusion at why this was being brought up.

His godfather held Jackson’s gaze, looking at him steadily. His eyes were clear and though grave, it was enough to show Jackson that he expected Jackson to act with composure. It served to calm Jackson’s nerves enough that he sat down again.

Jackson tried once more. “I know I’m Jackson Wang but I live as Jackson Chong now and have done so since I was ten. That’s all that matters now.”

“That’s all that matters? That’s all that _matters_?” cried Joon, his voice rising with every word. “Your father was killed, Jackson Wang! Murdered! Assassinated! And you say it doesn’t matter?!” Joon slammed his fist on the arm of his chair in frustration. “Damn it boy! I didn’t save your life for you to forget your father!”

“Murdered?” muttered Jackson, his eyes large with surprise. This was all too much. It was all – “Ah-ha!” cried Jackson, a flicker of hope had occurred to him, “this is a joke, isn’t it? It’s a trick, none of this is true,” he said, trying to laugh, hoping against hope that his godfather would break his grave silence and laugh along with him.

His hope soon vanished though, as his godfather slowly shook his head.“I’m afraid it’s true, Jackson. Your father was killed. Joon witnessed it all.”

“But – I –,” Jackson struggled to give form to the tangle of thoughts and emotions he was feeling. “I don’t understand,” Jackson said helplessly, his fingers massaging his temples.

Joon leaned forward in his seat and waited until Jackson reluctantly looked at him. “Your father was murdered. They tampered with his car, rigged it to explode. They had you and your parents knocked out with some drug. At least, that’s what I think happened. All I know was when I pulled you and your mother out of the moving car, you were unconscious. And before I had time to-” Joon choked again, clasping his mouth with a trembling hand, clearly the memory still haunted him. “Before I had time to save your dad… the car went over the edge and plunged... It exploded. There was…,” Joon’s voice trailed away as the old painful memory overwhelmed him.

Jackson didn’t speak but continued watching Joon, desperately looking for some sign of weakness, some sign that what he was being told wasn’t true.

“We lied about your deaths. As fate would have it, we managed to keep you and your mother’s survival a secret. It wasn’t too hard to do because there was barely anything left but ash and small fragments of bone,” his godfather continued for Joon, his voice hard.

Though Jackson could barely remember his parents, his godfather’s words felt like a hard punch to his gut.

“Why…,” Jackson said in a low voice, “was it kept secret because they would still want to kill-” He couldn’t bring himself to complete his question. The idea of being the target of someone’s murderous intent was too much to handle right there and then, not when he was still dealing with the fact that his father had supposedly been murdered.

Though neither man answered Jackson, their silence told him that the threat could still be alive and well.

“But,” asked Jackson, seeking to fill in one of the many gaps in his understanding, “but why? Who? Why would anyone want to kill us?”

At this, Joon took off his sunglasses. As his eyes looked into Jackson’s for the first time, Joon spoke very clearly and deliberately, “K Z Q.”

“No, no, no,” stammered Jackson, getting up hurriedly. He needed to get away from this. This was just crazy!

“Jackson-” his godfather called.

“No!” yelled Jackson, flinging out his right hand to stop what his godfather was going to say, his eyes wild. They must be mad, these two men; one whom he had just met and the other he had called, trusted and loved as a father.  He had to leave, he had to.

“It’s the truth!” Joon said loudly. “They wanted to make a deal with your father. They made a deal alright, then they betrayed him and killed him!”

“No, I refuse to believe that! Never will I believe it,” Jackson exclaimed defiantly, glaring at Joon for what he hoped would be last time before he turned to leave.

“JACKSON WANG!” thundered his godfather. Hearing his original name that had never before crossed his godfather’s lips made Jackson freeze, his hand in the midst of reaching for the doorknob. Something inside Jackson made him drop his hand and slowly turn around to face his godfather even though every fibre of his conscious being wanted to run out of the door and never come back to this madness.

“Sit down,” his godfather ordered but Jackson could not move. It was all he could do to stand there, to sit down and listen to more outrageous ‘facts’ would be more than he could take. Perhaps his godfather realised this.

“I know it’s hard to believe, Jackson. But all we’re telling you is true,” his godfather said by way of explanation.

“Here,” Joon said, tossing Jackson the envelope he had noticed before. Jackson caught it instinctively with his right hand. “You might not believe me so do your own research,” challenged Joon, “When you finally do, come and find me.”

Jackson’s only response was to further glare at Joon. Without another word to him, Jackson turned to look at his godfather. It was as he locked eyes with the man whom he had called dad for most of his life that Jackson felt the hurt well up. He couldn’t explain it but he felt betrayed.

“Bye,” Jackson murmured, unable to say more than that. With his mind numb, he had made his way back to South Korea and even weeks later, the envelope had remained unopened – until recently.

*             *             *

“Hyung! I’m ready” announced Bambam. “Do you like my tie? It’s new, of course, Yugyeom picked it out for me. How’s the style, hyung? Does it look nice?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jackson responded. “You do realise we are going to an island.”

“Hah, hyung, I have a fashionista reputation to maintain!”

“Right, right. Come on, we’re going to be late.”

And off they went to catch a chartered boat to Hoonan. On the way there, Yugyeom went over the day’s events and speech with Bambam, leaving Jackson to his own thoughts.

After ignoring the envelope for weeks, Jackson had finally given in and opened it to find that it contained mostly news clippings and old printed documents. The news clippings he could work on and had already asked a close friend in the publishing industry for help. The old documents though, some of which bore the KZQ logo, required verification and thus, he needed someone with access. And for that, Jackson needed Park Jinyoung.


	5. And so it begins

Jackson was still deciding how best to proceed with his, for want of a better word, research. He was determined to prove Joon wrong, to prove that Bambam’s father and KZQ had nothing to do with his own father’s death. His parent’s death was an accident and as for his mother still being alive… For all he knew, this could be an elaborate scheme to trick him. They could have hired an actress to play the part or something. Everything was just so… Jackson bit back a deep sigh. So far, the ‘evidence’ that turned up did not substantiate nor disprove Joon’s allegations which did nothing to ease Jackson’s confused state of mind.

What he had learned was that HK Enterprises had been a rising star in the industry before merging with KZQ. Based in Hong Kong, his father had founded the company and with much hard work, had built a reputation based on integrity, reliability and risk-taking for they never said no to a challenge. A self-made man, Wang Ryu-ji had met his mother in the early days when he was still struggling to establish his company. Coming from a rich family, his mother’s parents had objected but they didn’t give up. All in all, their marriage and future success was like something out of a romance novel. After news of their marriage though, there was nothing on the family. Seems his father had been a very private person, determined to keep the family out of the limelight. The next substantial piece of news was the car accident and that was it.

Reading about his father’s character and history was odd for Jackson. He didn’t know all this. Somehow Jackson had never dug around for information about his parents before this point. Perhaps it was due to his godfather’s insistence that Jackson forget his past. Then again, it could also be a result of Jackson’s deep-set desire to gain approval. Beneath his confident façade, Jackson’s deepest desire was to be loved which was why he did everything that his godfather had asked him to do. 

However, all the aforementioned information was available to the public, news that anyone could get. What Jackson needed was insider information.

It was to this end that Jackson was to be found in _The Street_ , a new café he had recently discovered. It was a classy place, served good food and more importantly, good coffee. He took yet another sip as he waited for Zhoumi to turn up. Zhoumi was late, as usual.

Punctuality was never Zhoumi’s strong point, odd for someone so involved in publishing and the media industry. However, with his contacts, experience and proficient grasp of three languages he was the ‘inside’ guy in the news that Jackson had gone to for assistance. More importantly for Jackson’s purposes, Zhoumi was based in China and Jackson had reasoned that there would be more news about HK in the Chinese media and it would take someone on the ground to do the digging. Of course, Jackson didn’t tell Zhoumi what his true objective was, only that it was something he came across in one of the many negotiations he had to handle.

Jackson glanced around again but did not see any sign of the tall guy he was waiting for. He picked up his cup for another sip but discovered it was already empty. Raising his hand, Jackson was just about to call a waiter over when the man he had been waiting for finally walked in.

“Zhoumi!” greeted Jackson, a hand waving wildly in the air to get Zhoumi’s attention. Zhoumi spotted him and ambled over.

“Hey Jackson, long time no see,” said Zhoumi, sliding into his seat while a hand scratched the slight stubble on his chin.

“What’ll you have?” asked Jackson, signalling for a waiter.

They made their orders, chatted a little until the drinks arrived, and then Jackson broached the purpose of their meet up.

“Did you find anything?” asked Jackson. Outwardly, he gave no sign of how important the question was. Inwardly, Jackson was anything but calm, nervous and alltoo aware of the consequences that Zhoumi’s answer might bring.

Zhoumi took a large sip of his drink before answering. “Hasty, are we? We don’t meet up for a long time and then I get a call from you out of the blue,” Zhoumi complained playfully.

“I’m sorry, hyung. Things got in the way,” replied Jackson, truly sorry that he couldn’t hang out with Zhoumi as often as he wanted to.

“Yeah, yeah, being ‘acting’ CEO is quite time-consuming,” chuckled Zhoumi, “which is why I’m surprised that you’re running around for something like this. Can’t someone in your team do it? You’ve got tons of people to order around.”

“Ah, this was something I wanted to handle on my own. It’s a bit of a sensitive topic,” said Jackson with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Right, right. I’ve known you long enough to know that you have your reasons,” said Zhoumi, reaching deep into his pocket to pull out an inconspicuous-looking USB drive. “So there’s the usual news coverage about business deals, projects and stuff. It’s all in here but after that is where it gets interesting.”

As he listened, Jackson felt his body tense in spite of himself. His hand gripped his second cup of coffee.

“It seems- ”Zhoumi began to say but stopped to take another long slurp. Jackson cursed the prolonged pause and could barely stop himself from asking Zhoumi to get on with it. “Seems news about the company was suddenly supressed. And that the merger wasn’t really a merger, more of a forced corporate takeover.”

Jackson, in the midst of sipping his coffee to control his nerves, choked. Coughing, Jackson managed to cough out one word- “What?”

“Yeah, the press wasn’t allowed to write about it, let alone speculate about why HK would relinquish all control and assets to KZQ, effectively handing over the company with not much to gain in return. It was an odd thing to do considering the circumstances of that time.”

Jackson was dumbstruck.It was a _forced_ corporate takeover? So it wasn’t a strategic business merger? Why wasn’t it mentioned anywhere? Who would want to keep it quiet? Why would they want to keep it quiet?

Jackson’s confusion must have shown on his face because Zhoumi’s eyes widened in surprise. “You didn’t know? Man, how long have you been working for the company?”

Jackson shook his head, still coughing slightly. Unable to think of anything to say in response, he continued to drink his coffee with a shrug of his shoulders in a bid to act casual.

“Come to think of it, it’s actually not really a surprise that you don’t. The public didn’t know. Only someone involved would have been aware of what really happened. To the rest, it’s mostly pure speculation. Still, the Chinese press wanted to crawl all over it, what more with the former CEO’s unfortunate car accident. But after the initial heat, the whole thing died down especially after KZQ threatened to sue on grounds of defamation. It also didn’t help that the entire media was suddenly focused on ensuring that Hong Kong’s democratic government continued after the 98 handover. Neither the media nor the people cared about anything else. Besides, people were more concerned with keeping their jobs and if being absorbed by KZQ meant that they got better-paying jobsin a multi-national company with increased benefits, employees didn’t complain much.”

Jackson had listened to Zhoumi in silence, more questions going off in his head but they were questions he couldn’t voice. Yet, he also couldn’t let Zhoumi walk away without at least digging for more details.

“So there’s no information about the takeover?” asked Jackson, having decided it was a safe enough question though he barely succeeded in keeping his composure.

“A little. Some old articles that never made it the press, mostly cause newspapers refused to print it or just works in progress that journalists never completed. They’re all here,” said Zhoumi, tapping the small USB drive on the table, a USB drive that Jackson no longer perceived as ordinary.

“Thanks, Zhoumi, I really owe you one,” said Jackson, reaching out to take the USB drive. He slipped it into his shirt pocket. He had to ensure that it was safe, that it wouldn’t be misplaced.

“This just adds another one to an already long list of favours, Jackson,” Zhoumi said with a sly wink before draining the rest of his drink.

“Ei, hyung, how long can it be?” joked Jackson in return, trying to assume his usual upbeat demeanour.

“Kidding!” laughed Zhoumi. “So, you really can’t tell me what it’s about?”

Jackson smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, hyung, but I can’t. Someday, maybe.”

Zhoumi nodded.

Just then, someone screamed, or rather, a whole mob of girls started screaming their heads off. Both Jackson and Zhoumi turned to look at the entrance and caught sight of a few men entering the café, followed by a whole lot of excited girls.

“Ah, 2PM! That must be Taecyeon and Chansung. Can’t make out who the other guy is,” Zhoumi commented.

“Right! They own the place, don’t they?” asked Jackson.

“Yeap,” affirmed Zhoumi, his eyes following the 2PM members. “Well, this is a bit of luck. I’ll see if I can – sorry, Jackson, we’ll catch up another day?” Zhoumi asked, his reporter instinct all fired up.

“Sure thing, hyung,” replied Jackson as Zhoumi hastened to wear his coat. Just as Zhoumi turned to leave, Jackson reached out to grab Zhoumi’s wrist.

“Hyung, no one knows about this, right? You didn’t tell anyone?”

“Of course not. You told me to keep it secret, didn’t you?”

“Thanks, hyung. And hyung,” Jackson held on to Zhoumi’s wrist a little longer. “Don’t tell anyone. Please. Not a soul.”

Zhoumi had made to pull his wrist away with a laugh on his lips when he was caught off-guard by the look in Jackson’s eyes. He was dead serious. Zhoumi bit back any questions and nodded firmly. “No one.”

Jackson nodded as well and let go. Zhoumi hesitated a little, just for a while, before more screams filled the air. “See you!” said Zhoumi, a hasty wave as he dove into the crowd surrounding the café’s counter.

Jackson paid for the drinks and left, having to fight his way through the crowd of girls. 2PM sure were popular, they’d been in the industry for years and they were still going strong.

Jackson had thought that Zhoumi would clear up his confusion, not add to it. It was even more important now to verify the KZQ documents Joon had given him. Jackson sighed. He had not wanted to involve Jinyoung if he could help it but it looks like he had no choice. It was merely asking a friend for a favour, just like he had asked Zhoumi. But why then did he have a bad feeling about all this?

*             *             *

Jinyoung looked up from the contract he was reading with a frown when he heard the door to his office open. He had told his secretary that he was not to be disturbed because he was going over a draft of an amended contract with the Korean Ministry of Tourism regarding their Hoonan project. A red pen in hand, Jinyoung scribbled some corrections. It was never ending, the legal work. Every document pertaining to the project had to go through his department and Jinyoung took his responsibility very seriously.

The reprimand for the guy who had interrupted this solemn duty died on his lips when he realised that it was Jackson.

“Hey, Jackson!” greeted Jinyoung cheerfully, taking off his round wire-rimmed glasses and placing them on an open page of the thickly bound contract to indicate where he had stopped reading. “You’re a rare sight around here,” Jinyoung teased in reference to Jackson’s allergy to books and stacks of documents. It made him sneeze, or so he said.

“Hey, Jinyoung,” Jackson replied with a small wave of his hand, wearing a tight-lipped smile that would have seemed uneasy if not for his puffed cheeks. It was a cute expression Jackson often used when he wanted to distract others, to hide that he was feeling slightly unnerved. Jinyoung, of course, noted this immediately.

“So how are we feeling today?” asked Jinyoung as both of them moved to the comfortable chairs in a corner of Jinyoung’soffice.

“What are you? My shrink?” Jackson replied with a scoff as he sat down, a small sparkle in his eye.

Jinyoung was glad to see the mischievous sparkle return. He for one had noticed that it had been absent too frequently of late. Happy and relieved to see Jackson behaving more like himself, Jinyoung decided to play along just to see that sparkle stay a while longer.

“Ah, that means you are ready for therapy,” said Jinyoung, his tone changing to resemble a solemn, reserved intellectual. He leaned back in his armchair and clasped his hands together on his lap. “So, Jackson, tell me how you feel today.”

Jackson arched his left eyebrow for an instant before shifting his position to lie down on the couch as if he were really in a therapy session. “Well, Doctor Park,” Jackson said in a mock lifeless voice and an exaggerated pained expression on his face as he looked at the ceiling, “I went to see this friend of mine. He’s a good friend you know, a really good friend. Brothers almost.”

“Yes, and?” asked Jinyoung with all the composure of an experienced psychiatrist.

“And, he was pretending to be someone else,” complained Jackson with no hint of a jest.

“I see. Who was he pretending to be and why did you want to see him?”

Jackson turned his head to look at Jinyoung. “Are doctors supposed to ask so many questions at one go?”

“Tut, tut, tut,” Jinyoung said, clicking his tongue. “Trust your doctor. So who was he pretending to be?”

Jackson squinted at Jinyoung for an instant before resuming his position as a patient. “Someone he’s not. I mean, I know he’s super smart, very very intellectual. He’s the best in studies among us anyway and oh yes, he loves to read, even the most boring of books, he’d finish them! I never understood why. So, yeah, I know he’s smart and all that but he chose to study law, you know, not psychology so why he’s pretending to be a shrink is beyond me. Tell me, doctor, is my friend alright? In his head, I mean? He’s not crazy right?” Jackson had asked the last question with grave concern as he looked Jinyoung straight in the eyes.

“I believe so,” Jinyoung replied solemnly at first but the corners of his mouth twitched. There was no stopping it, the laughter that had been growing inside of him since he realised who Jackson had been talking about burst forth. As Jinyoung broke character, so did Jackson. They both laughed merrily.

“You dork!” laughed Jinyoung. Jackson grinned widely at his friend in reply.

“Seriously now, why did you come all the way here? You could have just sent me a message or something,” Jinyoung said as he shifted into a more comfortable position in his chair.

“Ah, there was something I wanted to ask you in person,” replied Jackson, not wanting to tell Jinyoung that the real reason he had come was to avoid leaving a digital trail about what he intended to do.

“What is it?”

“Will you be going down into the company’s archives anytime soon?”

Jinyoung thought for a while. “Once I’m done with this contract, yeah. I have to go and check on something and I’m not entrusting it to my assistant. The last time he ran an errand, he brought back the wrong document. He got it right in the end – on the fourth try,” Jinyoung said through gritted teeth. He just could not stand incompetency. “Why?”

“There’s something that I’d like to check out and you know me and rooms filled with paperwork, we just don’t go together,” said Jackson, trying to use a joke as an excuse.

“Right, sure. I’m more familiar with that place than anyone. What are you looking for?” asked Jinyoung good-naturedly.

“Any documents related to a company called HK Enterprises. Specifically a merger agreement and any minutes of meetings leading up to it.”

“No problem. I’ll get those documents out for you by the end- ”

“No, no need,” Jackson cut in, “don’t take the documents out. Just make copies and leave them in their place.”

Jinyoung began to get suspicious. “Why? Isn’t it easier to just take them out and return them later?”

Jackson avoided Jinyoung’s eyes. Jackson knew that any documents taken out of the archive had to be recorded and he didn’t want anyone to know that someone was looking into HK Enterprises. Best to keep it secret as long as he could.

“I’d – I’d probably just lose them. Easiest to just make a copy for me. Is that alright?” Jackson knew it was the flimsiest excuse he had ever given on the face of the earth but he could not think of anything else to say.

“O-kay,” Jinyoung hesitantly agreed.

“And you’d do it yourself, without telling anyone?”

“Jackson, what is this about?” asked Jinyoung, his tone and face clearly concerned and curious.

Jackson bit his lower lip, his eyes on his own hands that he hadn’t noticed were clenched in tight fists. “I – It’s just something that…” Jackson began to say before he glanced up. Catching Jinyoung’s worried expression made any white lie he had wanted to utter disappear. There was real concern in those eyes, concern that showed that Jinyoung sincerely cared for him. For a split moment, Jackson felt the urge to tell Jinyoung everything but he couldn’t. Neither could he lie to Jinyoung whom he valued as a brother.

“I can’t tell you, Jinyoung, I really can’t,” said Jackson in a hushed tone.

Jinyoung could feel the conflict in Jackson’s voice and chose not to pursue the matter. Jinyoung knew that if Jackson could tell him, he would.

“Alright. Documents about HK Enterprises and the merger agreement. I’ll get it to you before you leave today.”

“Thank you,” Jackson said, his tone lighter because Jinyoung had not insisted on an honest answer.

A moment of silence passed by in which Jackson composed himself while Jinyoung continued to puzzle over Jackson’s behaviour.

“I’ll leave you to your work,” announced Jackson quite abruptly as he stood to leave.

“Yeah, Hoonan calls,” replied Jinyoung, trying to brush aside his worries to sound more like himself.

“Yeah, see you later,” said Jackson as he walked towards the door. Just before he left the room, he turned around to look at Jinyoung who was already taking a seat at his desk. “Jinyoung, remember, not a word to anyone. No one should know. Not even the guys.”

Jinyoung nodded at Jackson’s reminder. Jackson left, closing the door behind him.

‘What is going on with you, Jackson?’ thought Jinyoung as he put on his glasses. Whatever it was, Jinyoung was determined to find out. Looks like he’d be making two copies of every HK document because he was going to keep a copy for himself to analyse. He was going to get to the bottom of things. 


	6. Numb

‘Why isn’t there a list of names _anywhere_?’ thought Jackson with increasing frustration. He was poring over the documents Jinyoung had given him a couple of days ago. Surely there must be a record of KZQ employees who had gone over to Hong Kong for the ‘merger.’ Jackson no longer believed it had been a mutual bilateral agreement because the contract was wrought with one-sided conditions and loopholes. Even Jackson, with his limited knowledgeof business and contract law, knew that no business man on earth would agree to such terms.

The merger contract contained two signatures, his father’s and Bambam’s dad. Jackson had already tried comparing his father’s signature to other documents to check if it was forged and it seemed legit. The question was whether it was signed voluntarily or under duress. Could a gun have been held to his father’s head? Could he and his mother have been used to scare his father into signing?

“Jackson, Jackson, Jackson,” murmured Jackson to himself, “you’ve watched too many movies. Stick to the facts, stick to the facts…”

After a thorough search, all he could find was a note mentioning that a group of four individuals from KZQ’s top management had sealed the agreement but there was no indication of whom. In Jackson’s mind, if he could just get the names, he could at least ask what happened and proceed from there. As it was, the lack of information on such a ‘merger’ was very strange.

Sighing, he rearranged all the documents, locked them in his personal safe and went to get a drink before heading over to his favourite reclining chair in the living room.

Jackson liked his Seoul apartment, having bought it on Mark’s advice. In fact, Mark stayed in the next block. He liked the view and having lived in Singapore, he was used to living in a high-rise apartment complex. And now, in light of things, he was thankful for the added security. He couldn’t really pinpoint why he was growing increasingly wary day by day but he had a sense that he was digging into a horrible closet full of skeletons.

Suddenly too anxious to sit still, he got up, grabbed his glass and went out to the balcony to look at the night skyline. He had to figure out his next step… and no matter how he wanted to deny it, he had to meet Joon again.

‘I’ll call him tonight,’ Jackson relented. ‘At least I know he was there…’

Resolute, Jackson drained his glass, clicked his tongue (he should have poured himself something stronger) and went back into his home to call Joon’s number that had been scribbled on the inside flap of the envelope.

*             *             *

Jackson was slightly uncomfortable with the designated meeting place. An old basement under a seafood restaurant outside of Seoul? Like, seriously? Jackson had suggested a park. No, too open, Joon said. How about a café? No, people can overhear you. His house? No, Joon can’t be seen around Jackson’s residence. Jackson was just short of suggesting an isolated cell used in prison for solitary confinement when Joon told him where to go.

“ _Make sure you aren’t followed_ ,” Joon had warned before hanging up.

Jackson had done as he was told. He checked his rear-view mirrors many times as he drove Mark’s car to the meeting spot. Clearly Joon was over-reacting. Couldn’t he have driven his own car? No, cause if someone was tailing him, they’d be on the lookout. The look Mark had given him when Jackson had asked to borrow his car… Mark must have suspected that Jackson had either forgotten to pay his road tax or fuel up (both of which have happened before).

When Jackson arrived, Joon didn’t seem to be there yet so he got out and decided to just amble around the odd building to kill time. It was a seafood restaurant but it certainly wasn’t busy. In fact, there were very few customers. As Jackson stood on tiptoe to peep into the restaurant, he heard a hissing noise.

“Psst…”

Jackson looked around but couldn’t see what made the sound.

“Psst…”

The noise came again and this time Jackson could make out the outline of a man, complete with sunglasses, behind the stairs that led to the basement.

“What are you-” Jackson started to ask when Joon made a shushing noise. Okay, fine, Jackson won’t say anything until they were inside. Jackson made his way behind the stairs and into the basement. Joon closed the door softly behind them but not before peering out to see if there was anyone watching them.

‘ _He’s totally paranoid_ ,’ thought Jackson, beginning to doubt if he could trust what Joon had to say.

“Nice place,” Jackson commented dryly as his eyes took in the green stains on the ceiling and dust covered floor.

Joon shrugged as he took off his coat and placed it on the lone chair in the room. “It’ll do. It’s hidden enough but more importantly bug-free and soundproof. Whatever we say won’t reach others. Unless,” Joon suddenly turned around to face Jackson, “you have a bug on you. Have you checked?”

“You’re crazy, man,” blurted Jackson in response. A bug? Why would anyone bug him? Actually, Jackson mulled over Joon’s suggestion, _could_ he be bugged?

Joon seemed to follow Jackson’s train of thought and actually gave a little smile, as if glad to see that Jackson was contemplating the possibility of the idea. ‘Good,’ thought Joon, ‘he’s beginning to realise the danger he’s in.’

“You believe me now?” asked Joon.

“Not entirely,” Jackson answered honestly. “There are still too many questions but I want to hear what you have to say – _all_ you have to say.”

“Okay, man,” Joon replied, holding up his arms in a gesture to indicate that he was willing to talk as long as Jackson would listen. “Where should I start?”

“How about you and my father. How did you know him and why were you there on the day of the accident?”

Joon took a deep breath. “I, well, I mixed with the wrong crowd when I first got to Hong Kong, got involved in syndicates and all that. I was a good fighter too, took on 10 men once and left them all bleeding and begging for mercy,” bragged Joon a little. “Anyway, I ran into trouble with the authorities and really hit a dead end. Your dad gave me a chance when no one else would. He gave me a job, treated me like an equal. He’s a great man, your dad. Absolutely just and generous. I swore that I would return the favour one day so I stayed by his side as his bodyguard. He didn’t need one, he said, hah, shows you how wrong we can be sometimes, eh?” Joon said with a hint of sadness.

“So, that day, I was supposed to be on holiday, that’s why I never met the KZQ jerks. I decided to cut my holiday short, just felt uneasy, you know. I went to look for your dad to resume duty but I couldn’t find him – until it was too late. By the time me and my guys had tracked down his car, it was already slowly picking up momentum as it rolled down a slope. It was somewhere near your home in Hong Kong, there’s a woodland there. I ran as fast as I could, wrenched open the doors and… well, that part I already told you.”

Jackson listened, mentally picturing a car rolling down a hill and a young Joon running after it desperately.

“Did you, uh,” Jackson cleared his throat, “did you see anyone else there?”

Joon shook his head. “That’s the thing, boy, by the time we saved you, there was no one in sight. I’m sure they would have stayed nearby to make sure their plan worked but I didn’t see anyone, neither did my guys. Believe me, we looked. Maybe they were further away, waiting for the explosion, I don’t know. But they were watching. You bet those KZQ bastards were watching.”

“Why were you so sure it was KZQ? It could have been other Hong Kong mafia, other rivals- ” suggested Jackson.

“Yeah, as if those people would have messed with your dad. He was on good terms with the mafia. They wouldn’t have bothered him. It was KZQ.”

“Still, how do you know?” Jackson insisted.

“Because they tried to kill me too.”                                       

“What?”

“Yeah, one attempt they made before they left Hong Kong and twice after. I managed to beat it out of a henchmen of theirs before the guy took his own life. And before you ask, we checked his bank account, money transferred in from Korea. They must have seen me at the site, worried that I saw something. Anyways, that’s why I left Hong Kong, went to the States.”

Jackson started pacing the room, trying to look for holes in Joon’s story.

“If, _if_ all this is true,” asked Jackson, trying a different line of questioning,“and KZQ was responsible for all this, then why in the world did my da- my godfather,” corrected Jackson, “insist that I get into the company? That I get close to Bambam?”

“Because we had no proof. Use your head, boy, if you got in, you’d have access, you’d find proof and then we can get those bastards who killed your dad.”

“So… everything was set up? Me joining the company and working my ass off until I was in a position to get ‘access’?”

“It’s all a matter of perspective,” Joon commented with a shrug. “You must realise by now that it’s much easier to get information from the inside. Have you looked? What did you find?” asked Joon, with increased eagerness.

“Hah,” scoffed Jackson, “well, you thought wrong. There’s barely anything about HK Enterprises in KZQ’s archive.”

“Of course not, you idiot! As if they’d leave obvious stuff like that lying around. The men responsible for your dad’s death are cold-blooded cunning sons of bitches. They’d cover their tracks.”

Jackson had to admit, that much is true. As much as Jackson wanted to deny it, KZQ’s dealings with HK were extremely suspicious and questionable. All it did was to support the idea that KZQ were in the wrong here.

“At least you got a look at their contract, right?” Joon asked, interrupting Jackson’s wandering thoughts.

“Yeah I did.”

“And?”

“And there were four men who went to Hong Kong for that but there is no mention of who.”

“Four eh? Well, that’s something. Now we just need to find out who these four men are.”

“And how do you suppose we do that? There’s no record of it in the company,” asked Jackson. It was the need to answer that question that had driven him to call Joon.

“If we can get our hands on the list of passengers who flew from Korea to Hong Kong and from Hong Kong to Korea on those specific dates, we’d be able to narrow down the search,” Joon said, thinking aloud as he copied Jackson to pace the room, “and then you can check those names against company records.”

“That… does sound like a plan but how are we going to get such information? It was ages ago.” Jackson saw no way about it.

“It does seem beyond us. We need help. I’ll ask a PI I know to do it, he’s got tricks we may never think of. He might also be able to dig something up from the police now that time has lapsed and KZQ are not as vigilant,” mused Joon. “You, boy,” Joon said, addressing Jackson so suddenly that he jumped, “you continue working hard in the company but keep your eyes and ears peeled for anything even possibly remotely related to this. The least you can do is to come up with a list of suspicious people in KZQ. Might help us identify the villains later.”

“Right,” Jackson said. He wasn’t exactly comfortable with what he was agreeing to, it was like he was entering a deal he could not back out from. A part of him did not want to take part in a witch hunt but at the same time, he was essentially Jackson Wang by blood, Wang Ryu-ji’s son. It was his duty to uncover the truth especially since the possibility that his father was murdered was becoming more and more likely.He owed it to his father to clear that up.

“Any more questions, Jackson?” asked Joon.

“Yeah, one more. Why did you come to Korea? Especially since they might still be watching you.”

“Because,” said Joon, “we’re running out of time. You being in a position to do some digging in KZQ is not the main reason I came to see you.”

“Then, what is?” asked Jackson.

Joon looked at Jackson for a bit before sighing. He took off his sunglasses as his confident demeanour gave way to a melancholic mood. Watching the hesitant expression on Joon’s face made Jackson instantly wish he could take the question back.

“It’s…your mother, Jackson,” Joon said slowly, as if he didn’t wasn’t sure how to phrase his words to lessen the pain. “She doesn’t have much time left, the doctor says she’s dying.”

Jackson was stunned. His mother – that’s right, he had a mother. Joon had saved them both from plunging into a ravine. After years of living without one, Jackson found it difficult to get his head around the fact that there was someone whom he could call mum. All this while during the ‘research’, Jackson had not allowed himself to believe that his mum was alive, let alone think about her because it had all been uncertain. Jackson didn’t dare bring himself to hope because if it had been untrue…

Oh, there had been so many moments in his life when he wished he had a mother and now, he had one, his own mother, and here Joon was telling him that she wasn’t going to be alive much longer.

“She’s…dying?” repeated Jackson in a quiet voice.

“Yes, Jackson,” said Joon sympathetically, “she is. You have to see her. I, I just didn’t want to push you, not when you still didn’t want to believe me. She’s in Hong Kong.”

“Where? When can I see her?” asked Jackson, the urgency making him forget everything else.

“I’ll take you to her. And Jackson,” added Joon as he walked up to Jackson, gripped his arms and looked him in the eye, “you have to be prepared. She’s in a coma.”

Jackson blinked. “C-coma?”

“Yeah,” sighed Joon before biting his lower lip. “She’s… I just thought you’d like to see her, before she goes, you know.”

“Uh… yeah,” said Jackson, not aware of what he was saying.

Joon watched as confusion and hurt shadowed Jackson’s face. “I’m sorry, Jackson,” said Joon, easing his grip as he let go.

“Yeah, yeah, uh, look, I – I have to go,” stammered Jackson, absent-mindedly looking around as if he had to pack and leave. Realising that he hadn’t brought anything with him, Jackson hastened towards the door.

Right before he yanked the door open, Jackson asked Joon without turning to look at him, “You’ll let me know the time and place?”

“I will, man. Use a disposable cell next time, kay?”

“Sure. See ya.” With that, Jackson left the basement and stepped out into fresh air again. It was easier to think out here. It was easier to… Odd, his eyes were stinging. Scrunching his face, he hurried back to his car and only halfway on the drive home did he realise it was Mark’s car he was driving.

‘Control yourself, Jackson,’ Jackson psyched himself mentally. ‘Get. A. Grip,’ he thought, squeezing the steering wheel tight with every word. There was an important appointment coming up in the next few days. He was always anxious every time this appointment come up in their calendars. This time, however, he was going into it with a different mindset – he’d be seeing the other man who had signed the HK and KZQ ‘merger’ face to face.


	7. Hidden Intentions

Jackson scuffed his feet on the carpet while he watched Jinyoung fix Yugyeom’s tie as they milled around in an expensively decorated hallway. They were all dressed in formal attire, shoes all polished, suits all ironed and not a hair out of place – except for Bambam of course. Bambam was dressed casually and wearing his house slippers when he ran up to them.

“Hey guys! You’re early,” said Bambam with a huge grin.

“Well, we can’t be late, can we?” JB replied with a smile. Somehow seeing Bambam so happy to see them always warmed his heart. Their relationship, in reality, was actually quite strange. Bambam was the youngest among the seven, barring Yugyeom, so they tended to treat him like a younger brother. At the same time, Bambam was technically their superior so the hierarchical difference would have complicated things but Bambam had done away with that from the very beginning.

“I’ve always wanted older brothers! And now I have five! AND a younger brother too!” That was the first thing Bambam had said when his father had left them alone after making the formal announcement that they were to work together as a team.

That one exclamation broke the ice and got rid of any awkwardness among the seven. Since then, they had worked as a team of equals, as brothers, each doing what they did best. That alone, was magic. It certainly exceeded Bambam’s father, Mr Kun’s, expectations. Still, Mr Kun liked to keep tabs on how his son was doing, eager for Bambam to really take over the company because he knew he didn’t have long to live.

This was why the seven busy guys were to be found waiting in Bambam’s house, slightly nervous as they were going to meet Mr Kun. It was quite similar to being called into the Principal’s office, Youngjae always said.

The general conversation ceased when a staid, elderly butler opened the elaborate doors as a signal for them to enter.

Each of them took deep breaths to calm their nerves, even Bambam who always felt that his father was hard on him. They trooped into the room with JB in the lead and each gave a deep bow before lining up at the foot of the large bed on which Mr Kun lay. It was an elaborate set up with the latest state-of-the-art medical equipment arranged by the bed. No expense had been spared. Bambam’s dad even had his own team of doctors and nurses who were on call 24/7.

“Hello, boys,” said Mr Kun.

“Good afternoon, sir,” the boys chorused.

“Hi dad,” Bambam said instead.

“Ah – you boys look good,” Mr Kun commented. There was still life in his eyes which were very much alert but the lack of strength in his voice showed that he was weak.

“How are things in KZQ?” Mr Kun asked, not really directing his question to anyone in particular.

“The Hoonan project has begun, sir. Everything is going according to plan,” reported JB after a slight pause because no one had really wanted to be the first one to speak up.

“That much I know. I may be confined to this bed but believe me when I say I keep up with the developments,” said Mr Kun before he coughed and gulped deep breaths of air. He had not intended to sound condescending but it still came off that way. The guys had learned very early on that it was just his way of speaking.

“What I was referring to was my son’s progress as CEO.”

“He’s doing very well, sir. He’s working very hard,” said Jinyoung.

“As he should,” said Mr Kun before proceeding to ask for more details about what Bambam had done or how he had conducted himself when issues had cropped up in the company. His father was not going to hand KZQ immediately to Bambam and his team without first testing them. Securing and developing the Hoonan project was the biggest test of their calibre but Mr Kun was very aware that a company survived based on how minute issues such as personnel disputes were handled. This was information he couldn’t get from the news so he had asked his own advisors to keep tabs on the young team. He wanted to see if the boys would try to hide things from him. To their credit, they didn’t.

Throughout all this Bambam had remained silent, his eyes mostly fixed on the bed’s headboard instead of his father. He hated this interrogation. Why were his actions and character dissected in front of the others like this? But he had learned to keep quiet and just bear with it. His father had once mentioned that he considered this to be character building, about recognising weaknesses and remaining humble. Of course, Bambam disagreed but he had made up his mind to just keep mum.

Unlike the rest, Jackson wasn’t really as attentive to the discussion as he should have been. The others were alert but Jackson’s mind was occupied. As he looked at Mr Kun, he couldn’t help but wonder if Bambam’s father had been one of the men who had gone over to Hong Kong. His signature was on the merger contract so there were only two possibilities. Either Mr Kun was one of the four and, therefore, responsible for his own father’s death or Mr Kun had remained in Korea and merely signed the papers that were already signed by his dad, believing that the merger had been agreed to. Which was it? Or, another thought occurred to Jackson that made his heart sink, perhaps Mr Kun had planned it all but remained behind to keep his hands ‘clean’…

“You, Jackson,” said Mr Kun abruptly.

“Y-yes, sir?” stammered Jackson a little because he was caught off guard.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing much, sir. I was just trying to remember how much the company’s stocks rose when Bambam made the decision to re-launch our social media platform,” explained Jackson, hoping that Mr Kun would believe him.

Good thing for Jackson, Bambam’s dad seemed pleasantly surprised, “He did, did he?” Yugyeom immediately jumped in to elaborate on Bambam’s idea.

However, that wasn’t the end of the discussion which lasted a while longer and, in spite of the danger of being called on again, Jackson’s mind slipped back into his reverie. Should he ask Mr Kun directly? But if Mr Kun was involved, that would mean that Jackson would have exposed himself to the enemy. However, was Mr Kun capable of murder? Jackson’s eyes studied the lined face of the man who lay before him. Would one’s appearance reflect one’s nature? Could Bambam’s dad have killed his father or ordered the horrible deed? If there was one thing Jackson was sure of, it was that Mr Kun valued KZQ over anything else, perhaps even more than he loved Bambam so Jackson was sure Mr Kun would do anything to protect his company.

In short, revealing that he was Wang Ryu-ji’s son would be asking for trouble. There was nothing to gain from it.

The discussion was finally over and Mr Kun dismissed them with a wave of his hand. The guys bowed once more before filing out of the room. Only once the doors had closed behind them did they visibly relax.

“Can you guys stay?” asked Bambam.

“Sorry, Bambam. Work calls,” said Jinyoung while others also gave their reasons.

“Jackson hyung, what about you?” asked Bambam hopefully. Among all of them, Bambam was closest to Jackson, partly because their personalities suited each other. They basically liked to play and have fun whenever they could so it was no surprise that they spent quite a bit of time together. Admittedly, Jackson was more difficult to get hold of now ever since the Hoonan project began but Bambam still liked to hang out with Jackson the most.

Jackson glanced at Bambam, and unlike his usual self, refused. “Sorry, Bams. Got stuff to do,” Jackson explained without giving any details. As Bambam’s face fell, Jackson felt a pang of guilt. Usually Jackson tried to clear his schedule for Bambam but he needed to get to Hong Kong – fast. Besides, ever since Jackson starting doubting Mr Kun, he couldn’t really look Bambam in the eye.

“Well, see ya round,” said Jackson, waving to the rest who were also leaving at that point. Now to get on the first flight to Hong Kong. Joon was already there waiting for him.

*             *             *

A few hours later, the doors to Mr Kun’s room once more and this time, a few older men walked in.

“Ah! Kun, looking as fit as ever,” greeted a man who sported a greying goatee. He himself had quite a beer belly and seemed to have reaped the benefits of a very comfortable and luxurious lifestyle.

“Sarcastic as always, Choi,” replied Bambam’s dad as he looked at his former Vice President. Choi had been on Mr Kun’s core team and was instrumental to taking KZQ to where it was today.

Choi grinned and took a seat on one of the chairs placed near the bed.

“And the rest of you, nice to see you again,” Mr Kun addressed the rest of the men who had come in, all of whom had worked tirelessly for KZQ and now were enjoying retirement but officially held advisory positions.

“My son was just here, with his team. They’re doing good, those lads,” commented Mr Kun as he took a sip of the medicinal health drink specially prepared for him daily.

Choi leaned forward, “Are you sure you trust them, Kun?” Choi had asked the question before and maintained that there was something about the six boys that didn’t sit right with him.

“I’ve told you many times, Choi. I handpicked them myself. Still don’t trust me after I’ve trusted you for so many god-forsaken years?”

Choi chuckled, his original deep voice rumbling. “Just a reminder, Kun. Things might not always be as they seem.”

“Right, right,” dismissed Mr Kun. They had pleasant conversation and the group of men soon left because it was time for Mr Kun to sleep.

In the car, Choi smirked as he rode back to his own mansion on the outskirts of Seoul. He was accompanied by Kim, a taller and sturdier looking man who had also been part of Mr Kun’s team.

“Why the smile, Choi?”

“Because he’s significantly weaker, Kim. Simple really.” Choi couldn’t keep the smile out of his voice.

“Time to act soon, you think?”

“A little longer. A little longer. Our plan’s in place. We only need for him to, uh… snuff it,” grinned Choi before chuckling to himself.

“By the way, Choi, word has reached us that someone’s been asking about HK.”

The grin on Choi’s face disappeared, replaced by a stern face that had driven terror into those who dared opposed him when he was younger. “Who?”

“We’re not sure yet but rumour has it that that oaf was in Korea for a while.”

“So,” mused Choi, his right hand stroking his goatee as he contemplated the situation, “it may be time to finish an old job. Where is he now?”

“Hong Kong,” said Kim.

Choi nodded. “Do what you have to do but focus on the six boys for now.”

“Six of them? Why?”

“We need to look for a weak link. It’ll be much easier. Bambam doesn’t stand a chance without his team.”

“Yes, sir,” replied Kim.

They finished the rest of the drive in silence. Kun had intended for the six boys to be Bambam’s shield but if there was a chink in the armour, Choi was determined to find it. The smile crept back on Choi’s face as he thought about KZQ, the company that he had poured everything into and sacrificed everything for. ‘It’ll be mine,’ thought Choi with glee, ‘at last.’


	8. I Swear

Jackson took a deep breath, trying in vain to steady his racing pulse. Just beyond the door was his mother, someone he had longed for but did not know existed until recently. He found himself just staring at the door knob, both eager but afraid to turn it. He grasped it, it was cold to his touch, or perhaps he was the one who had cold hands.

“Go on,” urged Joon softly beside him.

Jackson clenched his jaw and squared his shoulders. Right, he had to face this. He turned his wrist and slowly pushed open the door. It was a bright, airy room with little furnishing. Everything was kept to the bare minimum so aside from a bedside table and a chair or two, there was little else. However, Jackson’s eyes sought the one thing he was looking for – his mother.

She lay there, her eyes closed with herdark but greying shoulder length hair tucked neatly by her neck. Jackson approached the bed slowly, each step hesitant as his eyes drank in every detail and feature of her face. Her skin was so pale he could trace the veins beneath her skin and she was very thin. So this woman was his mother, thought Jackson, recognising that his nose and the shape of his forehead was similar to hers. Finally, he was by her bed. He stared, transfixed.

Without a word, Jackson reached down to touch her hand. His fingers merely brushed her skin as if he were afraid that it would tear – she seemed so fragile. Gently, he held her hand, slipping his fingers through hers. He was trying to concentrate on his sense of sight and touch, trying to remember everything about his mother because if he even attempted to make sense of the turmoil of emotions flooding his soul, he’d break.

There was a long length of silence as he just stood there and held her hand, his thumb caressing her skin gently. His eyes remained on her face as if she’d disappear if he looked away.

Joon had chosen to wait outside because the sad reunion should be a private one, just between Jackson and his mum. Joon couldn’t forget the anxiety he saw on Jackson’s face when they had finally met up so that Joon could take him to where his mother was being cared for. Joon had refused to go to the airport. They cannot be seen together, he was sure of that. The fact that he himself was flying so often… It was a risk but he owed it to Ryu-ji, to Jackson.

It was a private medical facility, a small one run by charity but Jackson’s mother’s care was paid for by Jackson’s godfather. She was kept there under another name, a different identity, in hopes that people wouldn’t notice.

A nurse soon came because it was time for the daily check-up. She was surprised to see Joon but Joon nodded, motioned for her to wait a bit and knocked on the door.

Inside the room, Jackson jumped but his eyes did not leave his mum. “Yeah?” he said aloud.

“Hey, it’s time for the nurse’s visit,” Joon said through the small crack of the opened door.

“Okay,” Jackson answered, not even turning as the nurse entered the room. She looked curiously at Jackson but it was as if Jackson couldn’t see anyone but his mother.

“Sir, if you could…” the nurse said, addressing Jackson.

Blinking, Jackson reluctantly let go of his mother’s hand. The sudden missing warmth and touch of her hand frightened him. He wanted to hold her hand again, just so he knew that she was there, that she was real. Joon reached out to pull Jackson a bit further back into the room so that the nurse could do the routine check.

“Has she-” Jackson started to say but his voice was hoarse. He cleared his throat, his eyes still locked on his mother, and tried again. “Has she ever… woken up?”

“Once,” Joon answered.

Jackson’s head whipped round to look at Joon, his eyes demanding that he elaborate.

Joon cleared his own throat. “It was this year actually. Nurses told me that she was getting stronger and one day, opened her eyes. Her first words were to ask for you,” Joon said, glancing at Jackson. “But she was awake only for a few minutes. She slipped back into a coma and she’s been getting worse. That’s why you had to come and see her.”

Jackson felt as if he had lost his voice as his eyes once again focused on his mother. She had asked for him. All this while, she had been lying here alone. And where was he? Laughing and playing with his friends, going through life without carrying out his duties as her son.

The moment the nurse nodded to signal that she was done, Jackson rushed forwards to grab his mother’s hand again.

“I’m…” Jackson tried to say but found it difficult to get the words out. He swallowed, told himself to focus.

“I’m here,” whispered Jackson, feeling the tears begin to gather in his eyes. He held his mother’s hand with his left while his right hand reached up to gently cup her cheek. “I’m here,” his voice trembled, as did his hands. “I’m here.”

They spent an hour like that, Jackson watching over his mother while Joon hung around in the background, his eyes often looking out the window, watching for movement.

“Joon,” said Jackson, his voice breaking the silence, “my father. He’s buried here in Hong Kong?”

“Yeah,” Joon answered.

“Can I go see him?”

“Now?”

“Yes, now,” said Jackson, a determined look in his eyes. He had to fly off that very night. He didn’t have much time.

“Okay, let’s go.” Joon had his misgivings but gave in. Of all places the enemy might be watching, Ryu-ji’s grave had to be at the top of the list.

“Bye…,” Jackson whispered, leaning closer to his mother’s face. His face was inches away from hers. “Bye, mum,” he murmured, giving her a kiss on her forehead. Saying the last word, calling her ‘mum’, was gut-wrenching. So much of his soul and emotions were contained in that simple three letter word.

He didn’t want to leave but he walked out of the room with a new purpose, a purpose he was going to announce to his father.

A couple of hours later, both Jackson and Joon were at his father’s grave. Jackson stood at attention. It was to be a brief stop because Joon was very fidgety. It was in the open, too much in the open. On Joon’s insistence, both of them were wearing sunglasses and had hoodies pulled low over their heads.

Jackson looked solemnly at the photograph of his father. “I swear,” said Jackson before bowing deeply. That was all he needed to say but he meant it with all his heart and mind. With that, they turned to leave.

Seeing his helpless mother and his father’s grave with his own eyeshad changed Jackson. He felt as if he were a different person altogether. It was as if a heart of steel had been embedded in his body because now he was driven by one ultimate purpose. He meant to abide by the vow he had made to his father – he was going to make sure whoever did this to their family would pay. Justice must be served and if Jackson had to give his life to that end, he would.

*             *             *

A few days passed after Jackson’s return from Hong Kong. Jackson was back to his work but his heart wasn’t really in it. He went through the motions like an automaton; meeting people, attending meetings, conducting negotiations – all of which was done because he had to keep up pretences. In truth, he was biding his time until Joon heard from Ryohei, the private investigator that he had engaged to dig up more information about the flights and police investigation of the ‘accident’.

Being so wrapped up in his new sole purpose in life was beginning to affect his friendships with the guys. Jackson was too wary of JB, Jinyoung and Mark’s perceptiveness. They tended to notice the finest details and because of that, he was starting to avoid them. It wasn’t so bad in a crowd but if it was one on one, Jackson often gave the excuse that he was busy to get away. It was a blessing that the Hoonan project was well underway so they were themselves preoccupied. Worst of all was when Jackson saw Bambam, he no longer saw him as just his friend. Jackson was also painfully aware that Bambam was the son of one of his father’s possible murderers.

Whenever he wasn’t working, Jackson poured over employee records from around the time of his father’s death. Top management, eh? That was a small group of men. He began building their profiles, what each individual had been responsible for, every single business deal they had touched and what their portfolios were. Jackson took into account everything under the sun, even a brief mention of Choi attending a fashion show, for example, was tagged as information.

 

Meanwhile, Kim had gone to visit Choi in his home.

“We’ve got him, Choi,” Kim announced the moment he had sat down and taken a sip of the delicate tea served to him.

Choi nodded with satisfaction, “Where is he now?”

“He seems to travel quite a lot between Korea and China. He’s being careful but that bulk can be recognised anywhere. What do you want to happen?”

“Leave him be, keep tabs on him. There must be a reason that oaf is back now of all times. It won’t be wise to act until we find out why. Besides, old enemies deserve a reunion too,” Choi said with roguish smile.

“That’s not all, Choi,” said Kim, his tone making it obvious that the real piece of information that he wanted to present was coming up.

Choi’s interest was piqued, “What is it?”

“Look who the oaf was with,” Kim said, placing a photograph on the table between them. The photo showed two hooded figures, one clearly shorter than the other. Both of them were wearing sunglasses and their facial features were blurred. However, the composition of the face and the outline of the body could not be hidden.

“Is that…. That’s one of the six boys,” murmured Choi as he scrutinized the photo, bringing it close to his face.

“Yes it is and guess which one?”

“Is it…,” Choi studied the shape of the nose and chin, “Jackson? That boy from Singapore?”

“It is Jackson. He was photographed at the airport that very night, flying from Hong Kong to Korea.”

“Fine, fine. But the question to ask is why. Why is Jackson with the oaf?” asked Choi, his eyes sharp as he looked at Kim. If Kim had dared to taunt him without actually having substantial information, Choi would not be in a good mood.

“We don’t know why exactly but look at where the first photograph was taken,” Kim said, placing another photo on the table, clearly enjoying this guessing game. It wasn’t often that he had the upper hand when it came to dealing with Choi so he was going to make it last.

Choi wasn’t amused but he bit back his irritation, at least until he got all the information. After that, there would be no reason to hold back. Choi picked up the photograph and saw that it was a graveyard. “A graveyard, in Hong Kong. HK Enterprises,” Choi said, comprehension dawning upon him.

“Exactly. Pure coincidence? I think not. That’s one of the first things you told me, there is no such thing as a coincidence,” said Kim, settling back into his chair.

“Find out why Jackson is with the oaf, the reason they’re together, the reason they went to Hong Kong,” Choi ordered Kim, assuming his usual demeanour as the one in charge.

“I’m working on it now,” Kim replied.

“Well, work harder,” snapped Choi and motioned for Kim to leave. With a slightly petulant expression that Kim couldn’t seem to hide, he left and soon took out his frustration on his own henchmen by kicking one of them in the shin.

“I always knew there was something unpleasant about that boy….” Choi mused to himself, his eyes scanning the photograph of the graveyard. And if his suspicions were true, Jackson must be related to that uptight, unreasonable, miserable excuse for a businessman that was Ryu-ji. They had ‘taken care of’ Ryu-ji’s immediate family but he might have had relatives. There had been no reason to go after the extended family then but now, maybe things have changed... 


	9. Afraid?

“Hey, bro, you got time today?” Mark asked, cradling his mobile phone in the crook of his neck as he leafed through the pages of one of their partner’s yearly financial reports.

Though it wasn’t really part of his portfolio, Mark thought it was important to keep track of how other companies were doing financially. The last thing he wanted was to be caught off guard by sudden bankruptcy or embezzlement charges so he had his team keep tabs on every company they were working with to ensure that at least their dealings with KZQ were transparent. It was thanks to his thoroughness that KZQ had avoided a few slip ups with shady business partners.

“Not today, bro. Sorry,” said Jackson’s voice over the phone.

“What’s up with you these days? You’re never free,” said Mark, his brow furrowed.

It was uncharacteristic of Mark to actually call Jackson. It was usually the other way round. Jackson used to call him so much that Mark used a different ringtone just for Jackson because there were times when he was too busy to be interrupted. He hated going through pages worth of calculations to lose track of what he had last added or subtracted just to answer a phone call about spotting a celebrity in Gangnam. It had happened a few times already.

“Uh, look. I’m just busy. So are you,” Jackson answered. Mark could sense in Jackson’s tone that he was distracted and was eager to hang up.

“Fine,” huffed Mark and hung up, irritated and confused.

Jackson never turned him down before this. Whenever Mark got around to suggesting that they hang out, Jackson was always ready, happy that Mark did the asking. Mark sighed as he ruffled through the last pages of the financial report. He regretted not trying to get hold of Jackson earlier. He’d noticed that Jackson wasn’t being himself and was almost entirely preoccupied with something for quite a while now but Mark had been busy with the project. Besides, Jackson sometimes had moods but he always came out of it soon enough and would usually tell Mark about it later.

This time, however, things were different. It’d been months and unlike the other times, Mark sensed this was growing deeper, heavier and altogether darker. He needed to talk to Jackson, even if it meant forcing himself into Jackson’s car just so Jackson had nowhere to run.

Changing tactics, Mark did something he had never done before. He called Jackson’s secretary to find out about Jackson’s schedule for the rest of the day. Mark was determined to corner Jackson before the day was over.

*             *             *

Kim watched as Choi swung his club. The ball sailed in a high arc across the green and Choi gave a small smile of satisfaction.

“Good swing, Choi,” Kim praised but Choi disregarded his words. Praise from Kim meant nothing to him.

They climbed into the golf buggy and set off. They had a buggy to themselves, the caddies had to take another cart.

“News,” said Choi. Kim understood that one word as an instruction to report everything they had come up with regarding Joon and Jackson.

“Joon is being unusually cautious. As far as we can tell, he’s mostly keeping a low profile. I think he knows he’s being followed.”

Choi gave a derisive snort. “Of course he knows, you idiot. But who is he seeing? Where is he going?”

“We,” gulped Kim, “we actually lost him a few times.”

“What?!”

“But-but we’ve always managed to track him down again,” Kim said quickly, eager to stem off the tirade that came whenever Choi was angry. “He always goes to crowded places so with the crowd, it’s difficult to see who he meets.”

“Hmph.” Choi was clearly unhappy. Kim became quite nervous, trying to read Choi’s silence to know if he should continue the ‘report’.

“As for Jackson,” ventured Kim in a smaller voice. He noticed Choi’s eyebrows lift slightly and took it as a sign that it was alright to go ahead. “That boy,” said Kim more confidently now, “has been looking into employee records, specifically from when we were in charge. There is no indication yet what he’s after but don’t worry, I have the archive on tight watch now.”

“Alright,” commented Choi as he drove along the green. It was easy to put two and two together. If Jackson was seen with Joon, HK Enterprises was bound to be the common factor. He wished he knew how Jackson was related to Ryu-ji but so far, Jackson’s background papers all checked out, from his birth certificate, education records, passport, basically everything. Unless... they were forged. As such, Ryu-ji’s boy and Jackson certainly had different birthdays, different backgrounds but the fact that Jackson did resemble Ryu-ji somewhat made Choi certain that there was a blood link between them.

“Perhaps...,” mused Choi as he parked the buggy on the green and climbed down. His caddy handed him his club and he positioned himself for the swing. Kim waited, well aware that Choi was about to issue some orders.

“Perhaps, the enthusiastic and overly… curious Jackson,” said Choi, lining up his shot, “requires some discouragement, don’t you think?”

“Certainly, Choi, I’ll get right on it.”

“Don’t hurt him yet. Just scare him a little, will you?” Choi said before taking an almighty swing.

“Yes, sir. I’ve got just the thing,” answered Kim who had already decided what to do.

*             *             *

Jackson shook the hand of the company representative he had just met. It was one of a long list of meetings for Hoonan and in a way, Jackson was beginning to tire of it.

There were more pressing things to do and when he wasn’t preoccupied with his investigation, the memory of his mother lying in a coma always came to mind. He wanted to see her, to have her by his side but Joon had discouraged him. She was safer in Hong Kong, no one had found her yet and there was no reason for that to change as long as they covered their tracks. If she was taken to Korea, Jackson couldn’t guarantee her safety any better, not when he was already embroiled in the investigation. Jackson hated to admit it, but Joon was right.

Jackson only had to wait a little while longer because Joon had just gotten in touch, telling him that the PI had been successful and they had the names. It was all said in cryptic terms, of course, just in case anyone was listening. Even with disposable mobiles, there was a chance that their conversations could be monitored. As much as technology had aided their investigation, it also presented more dangers.

Jackson’s fingers drummed on his thigh as he rode the lift down to the ground floor. He was accompanied by an assistant, of course, an assistant he was eager to get rid of. It was the last appointment he had for the day and they were to go their separate ways after that. That’s why Jackson often drove his own car these days so that he could get away whenever he wanted.

Right after he parted ways with his assistant at the entrance of the building, his mobile phone rang. It was an unlisted number. Thinking that it might be related to the case, or even Joon himself, Jackson answered the call as he made his way to his car.

“Hello?”

“Jackson,” said a voice on the other end, a voice that Jackson did not immediately recognise.

“Who is this?” asked Jackson, his voice cautious as he tried to remember if he’d ever heard or met this man before.

“Silly boy,” teased the voice with a laugh. It sounded odd, as if the person was speaking through a device that altered his or her original voice. “Why would I tell you that?”

“If this is a prank call, I’m hanging up. Hopefully you have something better to do than waste my time,” Jackson said, irritated and annoyed at being called ‘silly’. He was just about to end the call when the voice said three words that made Jackson stop dead in his tracks.

“HK Enterprises,” whispered the voice.

“W-what?” Jackson frowned. What was going on? He hastily pressed the record button on his phone. “Who is this?” he demanded.

All Jackson got as a reply was that irritating laugh, “Does it matter?”

Jackson debated whether or not to answer an affirmative but soon decided that nothing was to be gained from admitting it.

“Should it?” hedged Jackson, hoping to goad the voice into talking more which might cause him or her to unintentionally give Jackson some clue about the person’s identity.

“Tut, tut, Jackson. Playing games, are we?”

“Only if you want to continue playing,” replied Jackson, now keeping his voice casual, concentrating on every word that was said. His mind worked fast to ensure that he didn’t say anything incriminating.

“Well, well. Shall we see how long the game will last, Jackson Chong?”

Jackson registered that the voice addressed him Jackson Chong, which meant that his true identity was not yet known. A part of him relaxed a little. Okay, not everything was blown. Someone had found out that he was interested in HK Enterprises but not why or who he was.

“How long do you have to play? I’m flexible,” said Jackson, now aware that he had been standing in the middle of the street. Nodding as an apology to the people who had to walk around him, he started walking to his car that was parked along the street. He could see it already, barely 5 meters away.

“Ah, flexibility is good. But knowing when to be afraid is smarter,” drawled the voice.

“Afraid? I’m sorry. I don’t think I know the meaning of that word very well,” Jackson shot back. If the person’s goal was to intimidate him, he was not going to give him or her that satisfaction. He took out his car keys and was about to unlock his car.

“I thought so, Jackson Chong. That’s why I thought I’d give you a lesson.”

Jackson scoffed.

“Look up, Jackson,” said the voice.

“What? Why?”

“Ahead of you, well, a little to the right, perhaps.”

Jackson raised his head, his eyes scanning the street, the crowd, the people. It wasn’t a very busy street pedestrian-wise but quite traffic heavy. What was this? He hated not knowing, hated being played. His eyes examined his surroundings, sure that he wouldn’t find anything and that the voice was only bluffing when Jackson spotted Mark waiting to cross the road. Mark was waving at him, shouting his name to get his attention. Jackson froze, his heart started racing.

“You see your friend now?” the voice asked.

“What is this?” Jackson demanded, his eyes leaving Mark only for a split second. If the voice could describe his actions, surely he must be somewhere around him, somewhere with a good view of the street. Jackson glanced at the surrounding buildings, the person could be watching from anywhere. Then it occurred to Jackson that it could even be a video feed. Jackson cursed his luck, he couldn’t spot anything suspicious.

“Well, your friend is going to help with the lesson,” stated the voice in a matter-of-fact way.

Jackson’s eyes whizzed back to Mark who was smiling now that he knew Jackson had seen him. Mark was bouncing on the balls of his feet, waiting for the light to turn green to cross the street.

“Now turn more to the right, Jackson. You’ll see the other component of your lesson,” the voice said.

Jackson turned and saw a common black car that all of a sudden flashed its headlights. It was parked along the side of the street. The windows were very darkly tinted and aside from the number plate, there was no other distinguishing feature, nothing that could be used to identify the car. The lights were turning red for the oncoming traffic and the black car slipped out just in time to be the first in the queue.

‘No,’ thought Jackson, his mouth suddenly dry. ‘It couldn’t be.’

“Now about your lesson,” the voice continued as the car revved its engine.

Jackson had never felt paralyzed by fear before, he had not known that every muscle in the body freezes, that every ounce of strength vanishes and the only faculties that still work were the five senses magnified.

“Afraid yet, Jackson?” the voice taunted.

The light turn green and Mark stepped onto the road, ready to run across to where Jackson was.

“You should be,” said the voice, no longer taunting but menacing.

“MARK!!!!” screamed Jackson at the top of his voice, horrified as the black car leapt forwards.


	10. For Your Sake

Mark checked his watch. Darn it, he was going to be late. He hadn’t taken the subway for quite some time, not since he had gotten his car a few years ago. He liked to drive, a hobby of his was just to take his car out for a spin without any particular destination. Today though, he had to leave his car in the office because of one guy.

‘The things I do for Jackson,’ thought Mark wryly to himself as he studied the subway map. A few more stops. Hopefully he’d get to the company in time before Jackson left. Mark’s plan was to hitch a ride. Jackson wouldn’t say no, he couldn’t really, not when they were neighbours.

Finally Mark got off, happy to be rid of the crowd. He didn’t like crowds, being in one always made him feel suffocated. Mark hurried up the stairs to the exit. It shouldn’t be too far away.

Checking his watch again, Mark gritted his teeth and actually set off at a slow sprint. He turned the corner and there the company was! And darn it, he could see Jackson walking out of the building already. There was no way he was going to take the subway back so Mark ran the rest of the way until he was right across the street from Jackson.

“Jackson!” called Mark, waving his arm high in the air, all the reserve of a Director of Finance abandoned. Jackson was on the phone and seemed to be walking to his car.

“Yo! Jackson!” yelled Mark louder, people were starting to stare. Mark didn’t pay them any notice because the only person he wanted attention from hadn’t realised he was there yet. Jackson seemed to be engrossed on the phone which meant that Mark wouldn’t be able to call him either. While he was trying to think of a way to attract Jackson’s attention before he drove away, Jackson happened to look up.

“Hey, hey! Jackson!” Mark waved again, grinning because Jackson had seen him! Good! Now all he had to do was wait for the pedestrian light to turn green. He noticed the traffic stopping and got ready to dash across.

“Beep, beep, beep,” went the light and Mark stepped on to the road, grinning at Jackson, when all of a sudden Jackson screamed Mark’s name. It wasn’t the yell that made Mark hesitate, it was the look of absolute terror on Jackson’s face.

‘Wh-?’ But before Mark could even finish sounding the word in his mind, he heard the ugly squeal of tires. He turned sharply, spotted the car bearing down on him and instinctively leapt backwards. One thing Mark was proud about was his ability to jump. He might not be as strong as Jackson and JB but he was the lightest on his feet.

Mark had reacted not a second too soon. The black car swerved to the left, very narrowly missing Mark and sped off without ever slowing down. Mark watched as the car disappeared fast down the road. The adrenaline still coursing through his body, Mark took deep breaths. If he hadn’t hesitated because of Jackson’s scream, he was sure the car would have grazed him at least. Shaking his head a little, he jogged across the road.

“Did you see that? That jerk must be running away from the cops or something,” Mark commented, his eyes still on the car that just went out of sight. Mark turned to catch Jackson’s eye but didn’t see him. Confused for a second, his eyes looked down to see that Jackson was on his knees, one hand resting on the pavement in an effort to steady himself, the other was clutching his phone.

“Hey, you alright?” asked Mark, hurrying over to Jackson’s side to place a hand on his back.

Jackson couldn’t answer. He had trouble breathing. His pulse thundered in his ears as he painfully tried to draw breath. He also felt cold, drained. Belatedly, Jackson realised he was in shock.

Mark crouched next to his friend, worried that Jackson was having a panic attack. “Hey, Jackson,” he murmured close to Jackson’s ear, “What’s wrong?” Mark started rubbing Jackson’s back. It was then that he realised Jackson was trembling.

“Are,” gasped Jackson, squeezing his eyes shut in order to get the words out, “are you crazy? Didn’t you see the car?!” Jackson pushed himself to his feet, brushing Mark’s hand off his body.

“You could have been killed, Mark!” he said, still breathing hard as his anger grew with every word. He glared at his friend and abruptly turned away. He felt the sudden desire to punch something, to release the anger that he felt. It wasn’t Mark who made him angry and Jackson did not want Mark to become his punching bag. It was the gall that an unidentified stranger had to mess with the lives of his friends. And yet, through the anger, Jackson was all too aware that Mark could have been terribly hurt. Worse, he could have died and that scared Jackson more than he dared to admit.

Mark didn’t entirely know how to respond to Jackson at that moment because Jackson was clearly shaken up. Rather than egg him on, Mark hung back and watched Jackson’s shoulders rise and fall as he struggled to breathe normally.

Without another word, because Jackson didn’t have the confidence that he wouldn’t snap at Mark again, Jackson opened his car door and climbed inside.

Also without another word, Mark hastened to the passenger side and slipped in, closing the door firmly after him.

Jackson was half-surprised and glowered at Mark before looking away, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I need a ride. Left my car in the office,” Mark said casually with a shrug of his right shoulder. He buckled his seat belt and waited for Jackson to drive off.

“Hmph,” was Jackson’s reply. He hadn’t started the engine yet, he still needed time to get his nerves under control. “And why is that?”

“Because I wanted to talk to you,” Mark answered, his voice serious, concerned. Both his answer and tone caught Jackson off-guard.

“What about?” Jackson asked cautiously after quite a long pause. He wasn’t sure how to evade Mark any longer but there was no way he’d tell Mark about his background or what he was currently doing. He couldn’t. It was too dangerous and Mark’s close brush with death proved it. In fact, Jackson realised as he started his car’s engine, he was beginning to feel a horrible twinge of guilt. It was all because he was digging into his father’s death, it was because he had started the investigation. It was all because of him that he nearly lost his best friend.

“What’s going on, Jackson?” asked Mark, looking out at the passing street as Jackson drove.

“It’s nothing.”

“Yeah, right. I’ve known you too long and too well. It’s anything but nothing.”

“Well, what do you want to hear?” asked Jackson, a hint of impatience showing because he did not want to have this conversation.

“The truth,” Mark stated.

Jackson bit his lip. That was the one thing he couldn’t talk about so he kept silent, hoping that Mark would give up waiting for an answer. But Jackson knew Mark. If Mark wanted something, he’d have it, even if he had to wait a long time. And that was precisely what Mark did. He kept silent in the car, an elbow propped up on the armrest with his chin resting on the back of his hand. Mark was very comfortable with the lack of conversation, he was usually quiet anyway.

Jackson, on the other hand, was not used to the quiet at all. Though he had been the one to initiate the silence, he became uncomfortable after a length of time. It wasn’t that Mark and Jackson couldn’t share a time of quiet companionship. Those moments did come once in a while and they both appreciated it because it showed that they did not feel the pressure or obligation to fill in the silence. That’s how close they were.

This time, though, it was different because Mark expected him to speak. He tried to think of something to say, something not too far from the truth but every which way he tried to skate around the subject, nothing sounded remotely plausible.

“The truth is,” said Jackson, breaking the silence.

Mark perked up, turned his head to look at Jackson and waited, his fingers stroking his upper lip. He intended to listen to and study every word, every nuance, every pause and every momentary hesitation.

“The truth is that I can’t tell you. And that’s the most I can say so drop it,” said Jackson curtly, glad that he had to keep his eyes on the road because it gave him a reason to not look at his friend.

Mark’s eyes narrowed. “Fine, you might not be able to tell me what’s bothering you but you can at least tell me why you can’t tell me.”

Jackson sighed in frustration. “I can’t tell you that either,” snapped Jackson, the guilt making him sound angrier than he actually felt. Plus, he thought it was a bit too melodramatic to say that it was to keep Mark safe.

“Look, the only reason I’m asking you is because I’m worried. You’re not being yourself,” Mark explained.

“And I’m telling you that you don’t have to worry, alright? Why can’t you get that?”

“I don’t get it because you don’t want to tell me anything. Help me understand what’s going on.”

“Why should I, man? I don’t owe you anything!” said Jackson, his voice rising.

“So you’re saying our years of friendship mean nothing?!” countered Mark, actually hurt by Jackson’s words.

Jackson hissed through his teeth. “It’s not that – I mean I –” stammered Jackson, “Mark you’re a good friend. Believe me when I say that I won’t be who I am today if I hadn’t met you. You’ve –” the words caught in Jackson’s throat. Of all the things he had thought would happen today, telling Mark how much he valued their bond wasn’t one of them. In their early days when they were recruited as KZQ interns in Korea, they had lived together to save on rent. Though strangers at first, being with each other helped them adapt to living in a new country as well as their working environment. At the same time, they had grown to understand each other as only brothers could.

“It’s _because_ you’re a great friend that I’m asking you to just leave this alone,” said Jackson, almost desperate.

Mark wasn’t going to give up easily. Fine. If Jackson won’t tell him, maybe he could guess.

“Does it have something to do with your father?”

“Ugh, for goodness sake, Mark, drop it!” Jackson was at a point where he didn’t even bother trying to control the complex mixture of frustration and guilt he was feeling anymore.

“So it is something to do with your dad. Do you have to go to Singa-”

“Shut up, Mark! Just. Shut. Up!” Jackson was practically yelling now as he slammed his fist against the steering wheel.

“I’m just asking cause I care – ” shouted Mark, matching the volume of Jackson’s voice.

“I’m not asking you to care! You don’t have to care! Just leave me alone!”

Mark slumped back into his seat, his face expressionless as he tried to make sense of what was happening between him and Jackson. This was not at all how he had pictured their discussion would go. He had thought Jackson would tell him after a little persuasion and then they’d go for dinner and perhaps a drink afterwards. He’d be Jackson’s listening ear and shoulder to lean on, as he had always been.

What had Mark expected? Anything but this.

“Is that what you really want, Jackson?” asked Mark quietly, his tone standing in stark contrast with the shouting match they had had just moments before.

“And what is that?” asked Jackson cuttingly though Mark’s change of tone disconcerted him. He knew he had really hurt Mark’s feelings, wounding him very deeply for the first time in their long years of friendship.

“That I leave you alone?” Mark’s voice was barely above a murmur now.

Jackson knew the question had a deeper reference than just their conversation in the car – it had to do with their friendship as a whole. Jackson’s eyes flicked to Mark’s face for a brief moment as he drove into their apartment complex. The wounded look in Mark’s eyes tore Jackson’s heart in two. He had never meant to do this to Mark but, it suddenly occurred to Jackson, if hurting him meant that Mark would no longer be a target, perhaps it’d be worth it.

“Yeah,” said Jackson as he parked his car. It was an utter lie. He wanted to tell Mark everything, to have Mark with him always… but this was for Mark’s own good.

“Fine,” answered Mark, no change in his voice that was now unfeeling. Jackson would rather have Mark scream and yell at him, to psychically hurt him. This quiet blank tone grated his soul like no physical wound could. Once the doors automatically unlocked when Jackson switched off the engine, Mark got off and walked away towards the entrance to his apartment block without looking back.

It was all Jackson could do to stop himself from calling out to Mark, to tell him he was sorry, that he didn’t mean what he said, that…

Jackson pressed the heel of his palms hard against his closed eyes. He couldn’t, he couldn’t put Mark in anymore danger. His own life he held not at a pin’s fee. He’d already made up his mind to sacrifice everythingin pursuing justice but on no account was he going to put Mark at risk again.

It was odd, Jackson thought to himself bitterly as he opened his eyes to stare at the now empty seat beside him, he had never known how vital Mark was in his life. Jackson suddenly realised that he had come to regard Mark as more than a friend. He had been a source of unwavering support, a never-ending quiet voice of reassurance and encouragement. Now, that solid ground upon which he stood had vanished.

It was all his father’s murderers doing. How dare they threaten Mark’s life? It was one thing to pursue justice, it was a whole other thing if the people he cared for would get hurt. Jackson was beginning to question if it was worth it…


	11. Breaking Point

The guys knew something had gone terribly wrong between Jackson and Mark. Originally best friends and almost inseparable, the two no longer seemed to acknowledge each other’s existence which made for very strange board meetings. All the other five knew was that it had happened very suddenly but none of them knew how to fix it.

Jinyoung had tried talking to both Mark and Jackson separately but neither wanted to tell him what happened. Even with all his attempts at persuasion, and he was extremely good at getting both Mark and Jackson to give in to anything he wanted them to do, Jinyoung was not successful.

JB, on the other hand, had tried a direct approach. He had cornered both Jackson and Mark together and demanded that they talk about it. Needless to say, aside from shrugs of silence, it had ended just as awkwardly as it had begun.

However, among the six of them, Jinyoung was the only one who had an inkling about what Jackson was obsessed with. He had done his own study on the HK Enterprises merger and knew that the deal was shady. Still, the one thing that Jinyoung wanted to know but couldn’t find out was why Jackson was so interested in it in the first place. There was practically no connection between the two but it was strong enough to keep Jackson on edge, shutting out every single person who was concerned about him. It worried Jinyoung so much that he started keeping tabs on Jackson’s whereabouts and activities.

 

As for Jackson’s investigation, it had taken him a few days just to get the names of the four KZQ employees from Joon. He had thought Joon was being cautious before but now, Joon was paranoid. Joon kept trying to come up with new ways to exchange information, always sure that people were following them both and had bugged every place they personally frequented.

Jackson had gone as far as to get people to sweep his home for bugs and now carried an electronic device that could scramble satellite signals whenever it was switched on. Right now, the only place that was free from spying devices was his apartment so that was where he kept all the information he had collected thus far. He had instructed security to be extra strict, that the only person allowed in and out of his home was the cleaning lady whom he now personally supervised.

This time, getting the names involved two different social events and three cafes all centred round Jackson’s movements because they now knew that Jackson was being watched like a hawk. He was even beginning to recognise the guys who were tailing him. It was an utter puzzle and quite tiresome but ever since Mark’s incident, Jackson was all for taking every caution necessary.

Finally the envelopes containing the four names were in his possession. He rushed home and only after checking the tiny tricks he used to see if anyone had been to his front door, he entered his apartment, flung his briefcase on the couch and tore the envelope open in utter haste. Thanks to the profiles he had compiled and shared with Joon, he recognised them immediately but his heart sank at the revelation.

One man, Lee, was deceased.

Another one, Yoo, had disappeared.

The final two, however, were very much alive and well.

Kim, very loud during company gatherings,

And Choi, the ex-Vice President who was never too far away from the company’s dealings.

The number of times Choi had implied that they were unfit for their jobs had already made Jackson dislike him. He always had the impression that Choi wanted them to fail. Now, knowing that Choi was involved in his father’s murder, Jackson loathed him.

As for Kim, Jackson could now identify the laugh he had heard over the taunting phone call. Jackson had earlier replayed the recording many times but could not make out who it was. Now it was so obvious. How many times had that insane irritating laughter filled the air during company events?

The problem was how to proceed? Jackson had been so preoccupied with just finding the names that he had not given much thought to what they’d do with them. Do they go to the police? Do they confront them directly?

It was then Jackson noticed another slip of paper in the envelope Joon had given him. It was a phone number, and certainly for a payphone. Jackson reached for his disposable cell and dialled. He only had to wait for a few moments before the call connected.

“Hello, ice man?” said Jackson, it was a signal to Joon that it was him.

“Yo, trickster,” came the expected reply. “Gotta make this fast.”

“Yep.”

“Can’t get them on your dad’s murder just yet. Police won’t investigate, not enough evidence. We need to catch them for what they’re doing now.”

“What are you saying? The whole point of all this was to avenge my father’s name,” replied Jackson with a frown.

“I’m saying we're changing tactics. Get them on more recent crimes, the ones with evidence. Then, we use that as leverage to get a confession for your dad’s murder.”

“I don’t get it. Why not just force the confession now?”

“Because it won’t mean anything without evidence. No court will convict them. We need to build a case, ‘reasonable grounds’ the PI said.”

“But you’re a witness! You saw it happen!”

“I did see it happen but I didn’t see their faces and that’s all the defence needs to kick the case out the window.”

“Then what do we do?” asked Jackson.

“Get them on other crimes, other recent shady deals, the ones with victims and witnesses, actual witnesses.”

“And how do you suggest we do that?” asked Jackson, mentally exhausted at the sudden change of events.

“Dig, man, dig! You’re inside the hornet’s nest, get on it,” said Joon.

“It’s beyond my reach. They’re bound to notice, they’re watching too closely already.”

“Then get others to do it for you. Get your friends, you said you trusted them.”

“What?! No way!” exclaimed Jackson,“I’m not dragging them into this mess.”For some reason, he hadn’t told Joon about the attempt on Mark’s life. And he wasn’t planning to.

“There ain’t no other way, we need evidence.”

“I just – no, give me a while. Let me think.”

“We don’t have the time to-“

“I am _not_ going to risk their lives!” cried Jackson.

“You don’t really think that keeping them out of the loop will keep them safe, do ya? Even you can’t be so naïve,” said Joon, a hint of disbelief and derision in his voice. What did he need to say or do to get Jackson to understand that he wasn’t the only one at risk here? The culprits were big KZQ names, it’s only a matter of time before they turned on the company itself.

“Call me whatever you want but I’m not putting my friends in danger,” Jackson concluded.

“You – They’re in danger anyway! I thought you wanted to get revenge for your dad!”

“Yeah, I did and still do! But not at the expense of my friend’s lives!”

“Fine. Then you find a way. We need proof. Get it.”

“That you don’t have to worry about,” said Jackson, a note of finality in his voice as he hung up.

The conversation had ended but goodness, the headache that had been constantly nagging at Jackson for days now tripled. His head was pounding, probably from the lack of rest and unending stress and worry about… In fact, just trying to list them out made Jackson’s headache worse.

And now there was more to figure out…. Great….

*             *             *

A few days passed, long days when Jackson met with so many dead ends wherever he turned that he felt like banging his head against the wall just to numb the frustration. As Joon had suggested, if only Jackson were willing to ask the guys for help, things would be so much smoother! They each had trusted members in their various departments and were basically privy to most of the information already, or at least indications of which business deals and incidents could yield fruitful evidence. Besides, it was way more difficult to track seven guys investigating on the sly.

As much as Jackson didn’t want to admit it, Joon was right. He hated it when Joon was right. But Jackson stood his ground – he was _not_ going to involve the guys. Even if they were already in danger, as Joon had suggested, at least they were safer being on the periphery of things rather than be right smack in the thick of it.

Jackson crashed on his couch right after he reached home, of course entering his house only after he had checked the usual tricks for signs of unexpected visitors. He had practically given up sleeping on his bed because sleep just didn’t come easily anymore.

He groaned deeply. He didn’t know what to do, where to turn. Cemented with the fact that he was avoiding the six guys who had been through thick and thin with him, he felt – there was no other word for it – lost.

It was as if he were adrift at sea with no control over the wind or tide…

The sudden vibration of his disposable cell made Jackson give another deep groan. Joon had already pestered him quite a few times about changing his mind and Jackson’s patience was wearing thin. With closed eyes, Jackson reached a hand into his jacket pocket and groped for the phone.

“What?” growled Jackson when he answered. He couldn’t even bring himself to sit up. He just continued to lie face down on the couch.

“Jackson, I-” came Joon’s voice.

It irritated Jackson and he cut Joon off.

“I am NOT getting other people involved,” Jackson said through clenched teeth in order to control his voice. They had gone through this many times by now.

“It’s not that, Jackson. I’ve, uh… I’ve got news,” said Joon. The hesitation and odd tone of Joon’s voice made Jackson pay attention. At least enough to lift his head and prop his chin on a cushion. Was that… sadness he heard in Joon’s voice?

“What is it?” asked Jackson, belatedly realising that no good ever really came from asking Joon this question.

“Jackson, I’m… I’m sorry Jackson. Your mother… She…”

“What?” asked Jackson in a hushed voice.

“She’s passed away.” Joon didn’t say anything for quite a bit because he thought Jackson would need time for it to sink in.

As Joon thought, Jackson didn’t say a word. All the worries, possible avenues for investigation, desperation – basically everything keeping him up at night was driven away. What was this? What did Joon just say? Is it true – all of a sudden – she…

His mother….

Dead?

Joon cleared his throat loudly into the phone. He wanted to let Jackson grieve but there were things he had to ask.

“Ahem. Jackson, would you like it if she’s cremated and buried next to your dad?”

“Huh… wha-, uh…” Jackson’s tongue and lips worked to form legible words but what did he want to say anyway? What could he say? Jackson cleared his own throat.

“Yeah, that’ll be… that’ll be nice,” murmured Jackson, “I’m sure she’d want that.”

“Right, I’ll get on it,” said Joon, now that he had confirmed things, he seemed in haste to hang up but right before he did, he added “And Jackson?”

“Yeah?”

“Be strong. You’ll get through this.”

“Yeah, sure,” said Jackson, unaware of what he was saying.

“Then – bye.”

“Bye.”

Joon hung up. All that came through the phone now was the disengaged unfeeling dial tone – but Jackson’s hand hadn’t moved. He couldn’t move, his mind couldn’t think, it was as if every faculty and muscle in his body had shut down. Through the haze, the confusion, one thought became clearer and clearer in his mind.

His mother died.

She’s dead.

Jackson would never see her again… he wouldn’t be able to hold her hand… he wouldn’t be able to tell her…

Jackson grabbed his car keys and dashed out of his house. He needed to get to his car, he needed to go somewhere – he needed to forget.

*             *             *

Jackson signalled for another bottle of soju as he downed the last drops from the bottle he held to his lips. He didn’t want to think. He wanted to forget and soju was strong enough to make him forget.

The stall operator gingerly placed another bottle on the table, a bottle Jackson grabbed, uncapped in an instant and began to drink. The lady clicked her tongue in distaste as she surveyed the empty bottles that littered the table. He was on his eighth bottle already…

When Jackson asked for another one, she blatantly refused. He already had too much to drink. Grimacing and shouting a few choice words of profanity, Jackson threw down a wad of money on the table and stumbled through the sheer plastic curtains of the stall into the night air, his hand clutching a half-empty bottle.

He wasn’t really aware of where he was going, except that there was the sound of water. He blinked to focus and could make out the faint glimmer of moonlight on the river. The river? Oh yes, the Han river. That stall was the same stall the seven guys had last frequented together.

Water, Jackson thought, suddenly thirsty, or maybe he wanted to wash his face? Or hands? Something. But he wanted to go to the river.

It took all his concentration to place one foot in front of another. Right... Left… Right, wait. Yeah, right… when he finally stood on the river’s edge, he looked up at the bright full moon in the night sky.

‘Ah, that’s very high up,’ thought Jackson as he blinked slowly. ‘Would you be… Are you there, mum?’ At the thought of his mother, he felt his insides rip, as if sharp claws were physically tearing him apart. That she was gone, that he would never see her again, that he didn’t…

“ARGH!!!” howled Jackson into the night sky, screaming with every cell in his body.

She was gone. All this while, he had thought that he’d get justice for his father then he’d take his mother into his care. He’d nurse her back to health and do his duty as her son. One day, she’d wake up. She’d wake up so that he could remember her voice – a voice he had forgotten and had been told to forget. But now, even that was taken from him.

Taking another deep breath, Jackson let out another gut-wrenching scream.

“ARGH!!!!” came his prolonged cry like that of a wounded wild animal. He didn’t draw breath until he was beginning to turn blue, that his lungs were beginning to beg for oxygen. It hurt but not as much as the pain he felt at the loss of his mother.

He didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.

He took another gulp of air and let out a third cry of pain, of anguish. It wasn’t as loud but the pain resounded in every desperate note. Why was this happening to him?! Why?! Why did his father have to be murdered?! Why did they have to take his mother away?! Why did he have to carry out revenge? He had not asked for it, he had not asked for any of this…

Gasping for breath, his knees buckled and he collapsed unto the grassy bank.

The grass felt soft and cool against his skin but within him, fire churned, burning every fibre of his being. Curled on his side, he realised he had tears running down his face. His entire body shuddered as the sobs overtook him. Without a care in the world, he cried. He cried as he had never cried before, he drew his breath in gasps, his shoulders shook, his eyes wept and his voice whimpered.

He wanted to give up… there was no point in this… there was no point in struggling… horrible thoughts began to possess him… Maybe he should just crawl into the river… to disappear…

But he couldn’t move.

He didn’t know how long he had lain there when he felt hands on his body. Somebody was trying to roll him over on his back…

‘Go away,’ thought Jackson, so weary that he couldn’t get the words out. ‘Leave me…’

The hands persisted and now were trying to pick him up. Every faculty dulled, it took a while for Jackson to realise that he was being carried over someone’s back…  He didn’t know who it was… It could be Choi for all it mattered, and you know what? Jackson didn’t give a damn. If he wanted to kill him now, he didn’t care – not anymore. It was just too painful to be alive.


	12. I'm Here

“Sir, he’s in bad shape,” said a voice over the phone.

“What?” asked Jinyoung, sitting up on his reclining chair so fast that the book he had been reading fell to the floor. He was in his study, a place he considered almost a sanctuary within his house. He much preferred a home with land and a well-kept sculpted garden than a high-rise apartment. He liked to spend time in it, admiring nature as time slowly passed. It suited his desired pace of life, a pace that he wanted to maintain and remind himself of when things got too hectic.

“Where is he? Is he hurt?” Jinyoung using his shoulder to press his phone to his right ear as he tried to put on a coat with only one hand while the other groped for his car keys.

“He’s by the drink’s stall along the Han River, sir, very drunk and – ”

Jinyoung heard a horrible cry of anguish in the background. He froze for just the brief moment he needed to realise that it was Jackson screaming.

“I’m on my way,” Jinyoung said before hanging up and slipping his phone into his pocket. He was just about to leave his house when it occurred to him that he’d better take a taxi. It won’t do to have two cars along the river, not when he knew Jackson was being tailed by someone other than himself.

It took Jinyoung a while to get to where Jackson was. After paying and thanking the taxi driver, he drew his hoodie tight around his head and sprinted down the bank to the water’s edge where he saw the vague outline of a man standing over a huddled shape.

 As he got closer, he could hear the dry sobs that came from what he could only assume was Jackson lying on the grass, blind to the world around him.

“He’s been crying all the time, sir, he just grew quiet,” said Jinyoung’s assistant, glad that his boss had arrived. He had been at a total loss, not knowing how to handle the situation of seeing a Director of KZQ crumpled and broken on the ground. Now he hung back and awaited instruction.

Jinyoung knelt beside Jackson and placed a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to see Jackson’s face which was currently tucked within his arms that were wrapped tightly around his head. Jinyoung could smell the alcohol, Jackson reeked of it. It was a very telling sign that Jackson was very much unstable. He never drank to this state, never.

“Jackson,” called Jinyoung but Jackson didn’t answer. Jinyoung wasn’t even sure if Jackson was conscious. Prying an arm away, Jinyoung leaned in close. Thank goodness Jackson was breathing.

“Where’s your car?” Jinyoung asked his assistant while he grabbed Jackson’s arm, hoping to prop him up to a sitting position.

“Over there, sir, should I get it?”

“No, help me carry him.”

“Yes, sir,” said Jinyoung’s assistant, kneeling down so that Jinyoung could shift Jackson unto his assistant’s back. Jackson groaned and seemed to mutter something along the lines of leaving him alone. ‘Well, that’s one sign of life,’ thought Jinyoung wryly as he placed his hands on Jackson’s back to steady him. Jackson was dead weight.

With quite some difficulty, they managed to get Jackson to the car and practically rolled him into the backseat. Jinyoung climbed in after Jackson and told his assistant to head to Jackson’s home.

‘Goodness, you really reek,’ thought Jinyoung, scrunching up his nose. He wordlessly lowered the back window slightly to allow for fresh air to circulate. In fact, the breeze might also do Jackson some good. Jackson couldn’t sit up at all but lay on the backseat, his head cradled on Jinyoung’s lap.

‘What is going on, Jackson?’ wondered Jinyoung, worry etched in every line of his face as a gentle hand brushed Jackson’s matted hair away from his forehead so that Jinyoung could feel Jackson’s temperature. ‘Why are you acting like this?’

“Sir,” came his assistant’s voice from the driver’s seat.

“What is it?”

“We’re being followed.”

Jinyoung knew enough not to turn around just in case he was recognised. He thought things through very quickly. This must be the guy he had suspected was tailing Jackson. If that was the case, going back to Jackson’s home might not be an option because whoever it was who was after Jackson could well be watching.

“Lose him,” ordered Jinyoung coolly.

“Yes sir,” said his assistant and proceeded to change directions very quickly.

They drove through many streets in Seoul, often doubling back and going through a string of traffic lights to create some distance between them and the other car. Throughout the whole ordeal, Jinyoung kept a hand around Jackson’s shoulders to keep him from rolling off the seat. Jinyoung couldn’t explain it but he knew Jackson was in danger and Jinyoung’s top priority then was to protect him.

Finally, after driving around for close to thirty minutes, Jinyoung’s assistant announced, “We’ve lost him, sir.”

“Good. Now head to my studio.” Jinyoung wouldn’t put it past the culprits who had driven Jackson to this state to have left his own home without surveillance. The thought alone made his stomach churn.

“Yes, sir.”

*             *             *

Jinyoung kept a personal studio on the fringes of downtown Seoul. It was a place where he indulged in whatever hobby it was that caught his fancy. At one time, it was oil painting. Another time it was sculpting. Currently, it was photography. It wasn’t because he was fickle but Jinyoung was interested in many things and often wanted to explore different forms of expression.

It was a medium-sized studio, certainly small in comparison to his home, but it was a place he could escape to. In fact, he wasn’t sure if the guys knew about it because as much as he loved them, he wanted to be alone at times. Jinyoung simply wanted to have some time to himself once in a while, a time to discover and recover his person.

It was to this studio that he had brought Jackson. Jackson was almost out cold and after heaving him unto the lone couch in the studio, he had ordered his assistant to go home.

Left to themselves, Jinyoung stood by the couch, looking down at Jackson who was beginning to whimper again. Jinyoung crouched by his side and reached out a warm hand to cup and massage Jackson’s neck.

“Hey, Jackson,” said Jinyoung, “can you hear me? It’s Jinyoung.”

Jackson merely groaned in reply, his brow furrowed. Jackson was beginning to breathe very heavily now, as if he had difficulty drawing breath.For some reason, Jackson was still dressed in office attire. With nimble fingers, Jinyoung quickly unbuttoned Jackson’s shirt. He pulled Jackson’s collar wide open and watched, hoping that it would be easier for him to breathe. Jackson could breathe, alright, in fact, he was beginning to wretch.

Jinyoung raced to get a spare pail, ran back to the couch and managed to pull Jackson’s head over the side without a second to spare.

‘Ugh,’ groaned Jinyoung, resolutely looking away as Jackson emptied the contents of his stomach. Jinyoung just wished he could plug his ears and nose as well but his hands were occupied, one holding the pail to Jackson’s mouth, the other on the back of Jackson’s neck. If any of it got on the couch, Jackson owed him a brand new furniture set.

After a while, Jackson seemed to have stopped throwing up so Jinyoung let go and Jackson slumped back on the couch. Jinyoung gingerly held the pail at arm’s length until he got to the bathroom. He poured the contents down the toilet, flushed and rinsed the pail, still disgusted at having to do the cleaning up. Boy, did Jackson owe him big.

He went back to the couch with a glass of water as well as a cool, wet towel and sat cross-legged on the floor next to Jackson.

“Here,” said Jinyoung, placing the glass gently on Jackson’s lips, “drink this.”

Submissive for once, Jackson did as he was told, sipping water that helped cleanse his mouth and burning throat. Still not entirely in control of his faculties, Jackson choked a little and coughed. For the first time since he arrived, he opened his eyes.

“Where – ” Jackson started to say but his throat was so hoarse barely any sound came out. Shaking his head as he tried to prop himself up on his shoulder, Jackson chose to concentrate on breathing instead.

Unfortunately, with the return of his consciousness, the entire reason for him being in this pitiful state came back as well. Without any warning, the sadness crashed on Jackson again, pulling him under into a dark, desolate and lonely place. He didn’t have any more tears to shed but his body still shook with dry sobs.

“Hey, hey, Jackson,” cooed Jinyoung, slightly alarmed at the change from senseless stupor into crying. He pushed Jackson’s body aside a little so that he could sit on the edge of the couch. He leaned over Jackson, a hand patting Jackson’s cheek to get his attention.

“Jackson, what’s going on? Why are you crying like this?” Jinyoung’s voice was gentle and concerned but firm because he wanted to know what was happening.

Jackson blinked at the sound of a familiar voice. His eyes swam into focus and he saw that it was Jinyoung.

“Jinyoung-ah,” murmured Jackson before his face screwed up in pain and sadness again, “I lost her, Jinyoung… again… I – She’s gone,” he stammered. That was all he could force out of his throat before it closed up and his words were lost as he tried to stop crying.

Jinyoung didn’t know who Jackson was referring to and at that moment, it didn’t matter. All he knew was that something had broken Jackson. Jinyoung had never seen Jackson so vulnerable, so raw with emotion… and it hurt. It hurt to see one of his best friends cry as if there was no more reason to live, as if all happiness and joy was gone from his world.

All Jinyoung could think of doing was to hold Jackson in his arms. He reached down, slipped his hands under Jackson’s back and pulled him up so that Jackson could rest his head against Jinyoung’s body. Jackson complied almost too willingly. The affection and care Jinyoung demonstrated at that moment drew Jackson’s heartbroken self like a magnet. Jackson felt as if he had found a source of refuge after having been adrift for the longest time – a refuge that was calm, gentle and secure.

Jackson began to bawl, wrapped his arms tight around Jinyoung’s body and buried his face in Jinyoung’s shoulder. Jinyoung, on the other hand, let Jackson squeeze the breath out of him as he gently patted and rubbed Jackson’s broad back and neck. So what if he stank? Jackson needed him at that moment and Jinyoung was glad that Jackson was finally reaching out.

Once Jackson’s sobbing had subsided, Jinyoung finally spoke up, voicing one of the many questions that had been troubling him. He knew that it was a bit unfair to ask Jackson all this when his defences were down but a chance like this may never come again and who knew what state Jackson would be driven to.

“Jackson,” asked Jinyoung tentatively and softly right into Jackson’s ear, “who did you lose?” Jinyoung knew it was a difficult question and it could open the floodgates again but it was time to get Jackson talking.

“My mum,” croaked Jackson after a pause, nuzzling deeper into the nook between Jinyoung’s neck and shoulder.

The answer surprised Jinyoung. Jackson had never mentioned his mother so Jinyoung had assumed that his mother had passed away when he was younger. He had no idea Jackson’s mum had been alive until recently.

“How-” Jinyoung was going to ask before he stopped himself. He didn’t think it right or wise to ask.

“They killed her…” answered Jackson even though the question was unspoken, his breath hot against Jinyoung’s shirt. “They killed my father too.” His answers were beginning to get mechanical now because he had essentially cried himself numb, having released a lot of the pent up pain, anger and fear he had carried with him for the past months.

Jackson’s father? But wasn’t he alive and well in Singapore? Jinyoung for one had never heard of any misfortune so far but he left this question unasked because there was something else that concerned him more.

“Who’s they?” asked Jinyoung but this time, Jackson didn’t answer. He just shook his head. Even in his semi-conscious state of mind, Jacksontried to keep it secret.

Jinyoung, however, was not entirely clueless. “Is it the same people who are following you?”

“Yeah.” As long as he didn’t say who it was, it was safe right? Jackson suddenly felt exhausted and extremely sleepy. His eyes that he could barely open a while ago were now refusing to open at all. His arms that had clung to Jinyoung were beginning to loosen.

“Jackson,” said Jinyoung again.

“Hmm?”

“Are you in danger?” Jinyoung’s tone did not change as he asked this question but inwardly, Jinyoung waited with bated breath.

“Yeah,” came Jackson’s answer, followed by a deep sigh. “They almost got Mark,” shuddered Jackson, cringing again, his fingers digging into Jinyoung’s back as the memory of Mark’s near brush with death resurfaced.

“I was so scared, Jinyoung… so scared,” Jackson said, his hoarse voice barely above a murmur now. “That’s why,” Jackson whispered, “that’s why you have to stay away.”

With the last ounce of his strength, Jackson raised his hands to cup Jinyoung’s face, his calloused fingers brushing Jinyoung’s chin and neck. Jackson’s hands were so hot it felt as if Jinyoung’s skin was on fire.

“Stay away from me,” Jackson warned, his eyes looking directly into Jinyoung’s. It was an expression that was difficult to read. Jinyoung saw the resolution in Jackson’s gaze but it was also pleading, tinged with fear and anxiety. Jackson looked desperate… and scared.

“You have to….” Jackson’s voice trailed away as his eyes closed and his hands fell lifeless by his side.

Jinyoung continued to hold Jackson until sleep overcome him and slowly lowered Jackson back on the couch. Wordlessly, he took the cool towel he had taken earlier and began to wipe Jackson’s grimy brow and face that was stained with tears and sweat. Finished with Jackson’s face, he moved on to wipe Jackson’s neck, exposed chest and hands.

He did all this without speaking, just staring at Jackson, tracing the features he knew so well from the thick eyebrows and slight bump at the end of Jackson’s nose to his bitten and torn lips. Jackson really had a habit of peeling the skin of his lips when he was nervous and judging by the state his lips were in, Jackson had been under great duress.

By the time he was done, Jinyoung had already formed a plan of action. After getting a blanket to cover Jackson, taking extra care to tuck the corners in, Jinyoung picked up his phone and dialled the numbers he had on speed dial.


	13. We're Here

JB stifled a yawn as he climbed the stairs two at a time to the upper floor of a 4-storey building. Why Jinyoung had woken him before the crack of dawn, he had no idea. Jinyoung had also refused to tell him anything over the phone but it was so out of character that JB had agreed to meet him.

‘Thank goodness it’s a weekend,’ thought JB as he turned the corner to find more stairs. At least he didn’t have to work. Wait. Scratch that. ‘Why does it have to be early Saturday morning of all days?!’

This better be important, like saving the world from Armageddon importance, thought JB to himself, his eyes narrowing. He finally reached the right floor and knocked, all too ready to demand for an explanation for why he had to rush out of his home dressed in his sweat pants with an old hoodie and tousled hair to come all the way to a strange location.

The door opened just a crack, barely enough for JB to catch a glimpse of Jinyoung’s right eye.

“What-” demanded JB but a loud shush cut him short. Jinyoung shushed him? Jinyoung _never_ shushed him.

JB was about to push the door open but Jinyoung beat him to it.

“He’s sleeping,” whispered Jinyoung in JB’s ear, leaning close and placing a hand on JB’s shoulder as a sign to keep quiet.

“Who-?” retorted JB, not liking the fact that he didn’t know anything about what was going on. JB was used to being in control and took pride in foreseeing issues before they happened which was why he was a great Director of Development. He just had this intuitive knack of reading people and situations which was why being clueless right then was unnerving.

JB’s eyes swept the room which had tall glass windows and lots and lots of paintings, sculptures and framed blown up photographs. It seemed to be a studio – a bare one with very few pieces of furniture if any. But what drew his attention right then were the people already in the studio.

Youngjae and Yugyeom were admiring, or rather, chipping away at an incomplete block of plaster that was standing in a corner of the room while Mark was leaning with folded arms against one of the few bare spaces left on the walls. There was a disgruntled look on his face like he seemed like he didn’t want to be there. Bambam, on the other hand, was sitting on the floor by the couch, engrossed in tending to the guy lying on it.

‘So Jackson’s here too,’ JB thought, a bit surprised to see him there. It was just that Jackson had avoided them so much recently, which increasingly pissed JB off, that it was now a little awkward to see him psychically defenseless and, as much as JB could gather, Jackson was the central focus of this meeting.

JB raised his eyebrows at Jinyoung in an unspoken question and Jinyoung filled him in on how Jackson had drank his way to oblivion and the little he had managed to get out of Jackson the night before.

“So we’re just going to wait until he wakes up?” asked JB. It wasn’t really a feasible plan, who knew when Jackson would come to.

Jinyoung sighed. “Yeah, I know… it’s just,” Jinyoung turned to look at Jackson, “well, he looks like he hasn’t been able to sleep for a long time. I didn’t want to wake him.”

JB pursed his lips and walked over to the couch.

“Oh, hyung, hi,” greeted Bambam who looked up before scooting over to give JB some space.

JB nodded in greeting, his eyes scrutinizing Jackson’s sleeping face and form. As much as JB wanted to let Jackson continue sleeping, because he seemed relaxed for the first time in a while, there was no point in waiting around.

“He said he’s in danger?” JB asked Jinyoung over his shoulder, careful to speak in low tones so as not to disturb Jackson’s slumber.

“Yeah,” answered Jinyoung, “and he seems to think that we’re all in danger too.”

JB frowned. He knew Jackson wouldn’t think so without reason but why? Why were they in danger? And if they were, wouldn’t it be best if they found out all they could as soon as possible?

“We’ve no choice,” said JB, “we’ve got to-”

A loud heavy clunk interrupted the hushed whispers. “Oops,” mouthed Yugyeom and Youngjae. It seemed a large chunk of plaster had broken off from all their chiselling and now lay in broken pieces on the floor.

Just then, Jackson groaned and began to stir. Yugyeom and Youngjae left their ‘admirable’ attempts at being sculptors and went over, joining JB and Jinyoung in surrounding the couch.

“Ugh…” Jackson gritted his teeth and curled up into a ball. He never really experienced a hangover before and now mentally patted himself on the back for having avoided it all this time. It was horrible, he felt like his head was going to split in two, every muscle of his body was sore and he ached in places he didn’t know he had. On top of that, his throat felt like sandpaper.

“Hyung, here, water,” Jackson heard someone say. Yeah, water. That sounded good, just what he needed. Jackson reached out a hand and groped for the glass. He drank it gladly and then wondered who had spoken. It was a familiar voice – too familiar.

Jackson’s eyes that had previously been either completely closed or mere slits flewopen in shock.

“Bambam?!” croaked Jackson, recognising the concerned face that was staring straight at him. “You – what?”

“Hi hyung,” said another voice behind him. Jackson’s head whipped around and to his horror he saw Yugyeom leaning on the back of the couch with a cautious smile on his face. “Yugyeom! Wh – Youngjae?!”

“What is this? What are you doing here?!” gasped Jackson, hastily getting to his feet to face the guys only to notice that more than just the younger ones were there.

“You idiots!” hissed Jackson, looking wildly at the guys surrounding him. He was about to launch into a long tirade of how they should not be seen with him, that they should leave right then and there but he was so overcome by a splitting headache that he had to sit down. Darn sense of balance, he could barely stand without feeling that the earth was going to give way under him. Groaning, he buried his head in his hands. He vowed to himself that he’d never drink to this state again.

“Time to come clean, Jackson,” said Jinyoung.

“Nowhere for you to run,” added JB, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants.

Jackson gave a small frustrated sneer. “Who’s running?”

“You. You’ve been running for a while and frankly, I’m tired of it,” JB answered, all the frustration and confusion that Jackson had caused for the past few months was starting to surface. JB was well-known for his short temper but he’d learned to control it very well to the point that the guys sometimes forgot that JB could explode – dangerously.

“I don’t know-” replied Jackson, wanting to deflect the direction of this ‘conversation’.

“You know damn well you do!” said JB, his tone rising. He was beginning to lose his cool. JB took a deep breath to steady himself. “You’ve been acting strange, Jackson, more than strange. And you need to tell us why.”

“I don’t need to tell you anything,” said Jackson, stubbornly avoiding eye contact with any of the guys.

Sensing that JB was going to blow, Jinyoung voiced up. “Look, Jackson, we know you’re hiding something-”

“I’m not hiding any-” Jackson tried to interject but he stopped talking when Jinyoung held up his palm right in front of Jackson’s face.

“We know you’re hiding something because you think it’s dangerous. We know you’re trying to protect us,” finished Jinyoung, dropping his hand. “If we’re in danger, why not tell us from what or whom?” he reasoned.

“Yeah, hyung,” added Yugyeom, who was actually very worried about Jackson as well. They all were but none of them knew how to get Jackson to talk. “Just tell us, we can handle it.”

Jackson glanced around at the faces of the guys he had called, no, the guys he _still_ called friends and brothers. Some of them looked concerned, others worried and one or two just plain angry. He fidgeted. He had been through the argument with Joon many times already and in spite of the logic of it all, he still didn’t want to risk the guys’ lives. He shook his head. This was his fight alone.

“I’m outta here,” muttered Jackson. He got to his feet and started heading towards the door before JB suddenly rushed at him. He grabbed Jackson’s collar and slammed him against the nearest wall so hard that a couple of paintings fell to the ground in a loud clatter. The force JB exerted knocked Jackson’s breath out of his body but JB took no pity on him.

“Talk,” JB ordered Jackson through clenched teeth. Jackson just returned JB’s glare.

“No!” retorted Jackson.

“Damn it!” yelled JB, gripping Jackson’s shoulders and slamming him against the wall again. “Talk!” JB was furious that it had come to this, that he was using physical force against Jackson when he had no strength to fight back but somehow, JB knew Jackson would respond best this way, that it was the fastest way to break him down. Jackson wasn’t one to just take physical force. His own hands scrabbled against JB’s chest as he tried to push JB away.

The others were stunned to see what was happening. They hadn’t had a fight in years, not a physical one at least! They raced to pull the two apart.

“Hyung! Let go!” said Jinyoung ashe tried to pry JB’s hands away from Jackson’s shoulders but JB held Jackson in an iron grip.

“Come on, hyung, just talk it out,” added Yugyeom who was trying to squeeze in between Jackson and JB in order to get some distance between the two.

“Yeah, hyung! There’s no need to act like this!” cried Youngjae who had wrapped his arms around JB’s torso and was trying to physically pull JB backwards.

“JB hyung! You’re hurting him!” said Bambam who had Jackson’s left arm in his grasp and was trying to pull Jackson away from JB.

From the back, Mark’s voice rang out loud and clear over the din, “Leave them!”

He was still propped against the wall, not having moved even when Jackson had woken up and wanted to leave. Now, though, with every gaze on him, Mark took a step towards the group, both arms folded. The expression on Mark’s face was one the guys hadn’t really seen before. Others might have described it as blank but those who knew Mark well could tell that Mark was beyond angry – he was furious.

Against his will, Jackson locked eyes with Mark, looking at his best friend over JB’s shoulder.

“He deserves it,” growled Mark in a low voice.

In spite himself, Jackson’s eyes widened at Mark’s words. He hadn’t – Why did Mark say that? All he wanted to do was protect them. Damn it! Why was that so hard to understand?!

“Y-you surely don’t mean that,” replied Jinyoung, a weak attempt at a laugh. He stopped trying to tear JB’s hands off Jackson and turned to face Mark, his body tense, ready to react if Mark decided to get physical too.

“I do,” said Mark firmly, his eyes still locked on Jackson’s. Ever since the day they stopped acknowledging each other’s existence, Mark had grown increasingly sullen whenever Jackson crossed his mind. Normally Mark’s mood was not negatively affected by those around him. In fact, he was the one who usually calmed others down. It was an entirely new experience for Mark to find anger growing within him like an ugly red-eyed monster. It made him want to lash out at Jackson, to make him realise how much his behaviour was destroying both himself and those who cared about him – like Mark. Still, Mark had refrained from saying anything all this while but like JB, he had had enough.

“He doesn’t think of us as friends, not anymore. Isn’t that right, Jackson?” slurred Mark, a dark side of him enjoying the pain his words inflicted on Jackson just as how Jackson’s own words and actions had seared through Mark’s own heart.

“N-no,” stammered Jackson, “You guys _are_ my friends. I never thought of you guys as anything else.” He was almost pleading now, they had to understand, they had to know that they were very very important to him.

“Really?” mocked JB, shaking Jackson’s shoulder so that Jackson turned back to look at him.

“Friends… talk,” JB said, “Friends share. Friends don’t hide stuff. Basically friends don’t do anything you’re doing now.”

“Ugh,” groaned Jackson, “guys, please…! There are reasons why I cannot tell you. Can’t… can’t you understand that?”

Jinyoung could see that Jackson’s will was giving way. “What are the reasons why you can’t tell us? Just that, tell us just that and we’ll let go.”

Jackson looked silently at JB, then Mark, then Jinyoung and then all the guys in turn. They all had expectant looks on their faces. He licked his lips nervously. He wanted to tell them something but what could he say?

“Come on, hyung,” said Yugyeom, his voice gentle. “We’ll wait,” he assured Jackson.

“I –,” Jackson ground his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. “I can’t –” Jackson tried to say something, to answer their question, but he couldn’t continue, neither could he think of how to recollect himself. He was in pieces, everything was scattered. Nothing was in place anymore…

“Can’t? Can’t what?” asked Jinyoung, his voice mirroring Yugyeom’s gentleness. They should coax it out of Jackson, at least, before punches started to fly. He had already noticed that Mark and JB were balling their fists.

“Yeah, Jackson, can’t what?” repeated JB, deciding that Jackson had dawdled long enough. “Can’t figure out how to ditch us?,” sneered JB, mocking Jackson’s tone and words, “Can’t figure out a way to get yourself out of this mess? Or perhaps you can’t think of any excuse for your behaviour?” All these were cruel suggestions and JB didn’t mean them at all but if someone had to play bad cop, he was the best candidate to do it.

At that point, Mark couldn’t take it anymore. He marched up to Jackson, pushed JB out of the way and smacked a hand right in the middle of Jackson’s chest, holding him against the wall.

“You can’t what?” snarled Mark, his face mere inches away from Jackson’s. He wasn’t going to back off just because Jackson looked like a wounded, defenseless puppy. They had to get it out of him today, right now.

“You can’t what?” repeated Mark not giving any ground when Jackson did not make a sound.

“I can’t-” tried Jackson again but what did he want to say? That he couldn’t tell them KZQ had murdered his parents? That the ex-Vice President and Bambam’s dad might have planned it all? That he had been investigating the company on the sly? That he was trying to bring Choi and Kim to justice and it’s dangerous? Were those the reason why he couldn’t tell the guys? What was the main reason?

‘No,’ Jackson realised, something was slowly beginning to click into place.

“Jackson,” warned Mark, applying even more pressure on Jackson’s chest, “say it.”

‘- Those aren’t the main reasons at all-’

“Now,” demanded Mark.

‘- The reason I’m behaving this way, the real reason is-’

“Why is it you can’t –”

“I can’t lose you guys!” Jackson blurted out, the moment of epiphany was such a shock to him that it took a while to sink in.

Mark blinked, taken aback at the unexpected answer, “What?” The pressure he had applied on Jackson’s chest lessened.

“I can’t lose you guys,” repeated Jackson, getting his head around what had been driving him all this while, why he had had conflicted emotions about going through with what he had planned, why he had pushed them away.

“I’ve already lost my mum…,” murmured Jackson, “I can’t lose you guys too… I’d…. I’d have nothing left.”

“You mean like you almost lost Mark?” asked Jinyoung, trying to piece things together as Jackson nodded an affirmative.

“What?” gasped Mark, releasing Jackson to turn to look at Jinyoung, “What do you mean?”

“That car,” said Jackson with a shudder as he sank to the floor, his face buried in his hands again. “It wasn’t an accident…. You almost died….” Jackson’s shoulders shuddered again as that black car that haunted his nightmares flashed on his mind’s eye.

“Jackson,” murmured Mark, getting down on one knee to place both hands on Jackson’s trembling shoulders to give him a gentle shake, “come on, look at me.” Mark’s voice was very different now, it was gentle, calm, the same Mark Jackson knew inside out.

Jackson shook his head in his hands. “You almost died…. Because of me,” gasped Jackson, it took a lot to say the words, to admit that he had almost cost the life of his best friend.

“Hey... hey,” Mark cooed but Jackson, who was already emotionally unstable, was beginning to cry again. “Hey, gaga,” Mark said, sliding his arms around Jackson’s shoulders to hug him close to his chest, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

Jackson could only nod as he leaned on Mark’s chest. He had no idea how much he had wanted this, how much he had needed this. “I know,” murmured Jackson, “and I’m sorry too.” Jackson’s own arms had snaked around Mark’s body and now, the two were hugging the horrible awkward weeks away.

JB, who had stood back, cleared his throat. “So, Jackson,” ventured JB who really didn’t want to cut short the moment of reconciliation but they had to know everything. Mark knew it too so he held out a hand to help Jackson to his feet.

“These guys who almost killed Mark, who are they?” JB asked.

Jackson sighed deeply. “You are aware that if I tell you, you’ll be in danger?”

JB nodded solemnly.

“You guys too?” Jackson asked the rest, all of whom nodded.

“Fine,” said Jackson, giving up as he shuffled back over to the couch, Mark following him just in case Jackson was unstable on his feet. “I’ll tell you everything.”


	14. Fire the Starting Pistol

JB went through the updates in his mind as he travelled from one business meeting to another. The Hoonan development was well on the way and so far, things seemed to be going smoothly though some rumbles had reached his ears – rumbles that did not bode well. This time, however, he knew more about the source of the upcoming problems thanks to Jackson - not that it did anything to ease his worries. Seems like cronyism was alive and well in KZQ and they were up against more than old stubborn men who didn’t want to change their ways – these were old stubborn men who were willing to kill to achieve their means.

JB stifled a sigh as he recalled all the details he could from what Jackson had told them in Jinyoung’s studio the other day. Shocking did not even begin to describe what Jackson had to tell; the whole scenario – murdered parents, being stalked, blackmailed, threatened, investigating on the sly – it was all worthy of a spy thriller slash detective movie.

The sad thing was, the threat was very real and it seems that the situation wasn’t stopping at just Jackson’s investigation of his past. The culprits were after them and, judging from the rumbles, they were after the company as well. At least, this was what JB suspected. He wasn’t sure yet but it definitely seemed to be the case. The fact that all these sudden and increasing problems and resistance seemed to coincide with Mr Kun’s failing health only seemed to confirm JB’s suspicion.

At least now they weren’t oblivious to the threat thanks to Jackson. JB had already taken control as their team’s mastermind. The main plan of action was to pretend as if nothing had changed, that they had no idea there were people plotting against the company from within.

If the old men wanted a fight, the seven of them were determined to stand their ground and give them one hell of a good run.

They had divided their roles in this cat and mouse game, each playing to their strengths. Jinyoung was going to go through the legal documentation that had been held by his predecessor, looking for signs of foul play as well as unfair dealings. JB was to do the same but this time concentrating on shareholders who might have been ‘influenced’ by Choi and Kim in terms of how they voted in shareholder meetings. As for Mark, his task was clear in that he would go through the company’s previous financial records to look for any indication that there might have been shady deals or even embezzlement. This was by far the most tedious and the most vital. The others were to take on the extra duties and responsibilities that these three had no time for in order for Jinyoung, JB and Mark to investigate while Jackson was to continue occupying Choi’s attention.

Bambam had taken it upon himself to trace hidden camera and audio feeds if they were found because he was the most tech-savvy among the seven. While waiting for those, he had already started hacking around Choi and Kim’s personal systems. Though Bambam’s determination and sudden resolve did surprise the guys, they could guess what was driving Bambam to put so much of himself into the investigation. Although it was unsaid, because Jackson avoided the issue, Bambam knew that Jackson had suspicions about his father’s involvement in the HK deal and the crime that came with it. Thinking back to the big reveal in Jinyoung’s studio, Bambam frowned.

*             *             *

“Who are we talking about specifically?” asked Jinyoung.

“We need names,” added JB.

They now mostly stood in a circle around Jackson, as if fencing him in to stop him from escaping. Mark kept him company on the couch while the rest milled around them.

Jackson glanced up at JB before clearing his throat. “Choi and Kim – yes,” Jackson added quickly to pre-empt more questions, “Our current KZQ advisors.”

None of the guys could disguise their shock. Of all the names to hear, the names of two of the very men known to be in Mr Kun’s inner circle and had contributed so much to KZQ’s development were the last names on their minds. Briefly, Jackson told them about how he had discovered his past and the investigative steps he had taken. Through it all though, Jackson tried to avoid implying that Mr Kun might have known of the assassination for Bambam’s sake but there was no getting around it. The six guys with him weren’t known as the next generation of KZQ Cooperation for no reason. They were all smart, discerning individuals and could see the implications of Jackson’s words.

Bambam especially, tried not to show it. He listened with increasing alarm but kept it from showing.

All in all, the unexpected meeting ended with a solemn promise between the guys to help Jackson, a promise, of course, that Jackson had objected strongly to.

“I told you guys everything so that you’d know what was going on, that’s it! I don’t want you guys to get too involved in this mess,” said Jackson, alarmed that JB in particular seemed to want to take the lead in bringing Choi and Kim to justice.

“Really, Jackson,” replied Jinyoung with a slight smile of disbelief, “you expect us to listen to all this and not help you?”

“Yeah, help, as in I ask you for some info, you’d give it to me – that’s it.”

“Hah,” scoffed Mark, “as if you can handle this on your own.”

Jackson turned to glare at Mark, “What are you trying to say?”

“Simple,” said Mark with a shrug, “this is beyond you. You need us.”

Jackson opened his mouth to retort but he really couldn’t find anything to say. Just look at the situation he was in; having lost his ability to think rationally, he had drunk himself to the brink of death. Jackson closed his mouth and his chin dropped a little in defeat.

“HYUNG!” cried Yugyeom, suddenly giving Jackson such a bear hug from behind the couch that Jackson gasped in surprise, “We’re in this together hyung. Cause we’re family.”

“Family…” repeated Jackson, his hands unconsciously reaching up to grasp Yugyeom’s arms that were wrapped tightly around his shoulders. Jackson looked around at the guys who had determined but kind looks on their faces and felt a growing warmth in the very core of his soul – the very same core that had felt unbearably empty and wretched the night before.

*             *             *

Bambam was the most conflicted after what the guys referred to as their ‘studio session’ and upon reflection, realised he must be going through the same struggle that Jackson had gone through. Bambam resolved that regardless of what it was, the truth will out. Bambam waited for a good time to ask his father about it – it’s just that, it was difficult to talk to his father as it is, let alone fish for something so important. He barely talked to his father in the first place!

Bambam stood outside the door to his father’s room, feet tapping the floor anxiously. He was still trying to think of the best way to broach the subject when the doors opened.

“Young master,” greeted the butler with a deep bow as he stepped aside to let Bambam pass.

Bambam inclined his head in acknowledgement and stepped inside. The butler closed the doors behind him as he exited, leaving father and son alone in the room.

“What is it, boy?” wheezed Mr Kun. His condition had really deteriorated of late and he had lost a lot of the alertness since the seven of them had last been in the room.

“Hello father,” Bambam said hesitantly as he approached his father’s bedside. “How are you feeling?”

Mr Kun looked at Bambam intently for a moment as if to try to trace the reason why Bambam had wanted to see him all of a sudden. “I’ve had better days,” Mr Kun said after a pause, his gaze and demeanour relaxing, a sign that he couldn’t see any ill-intent inBambam’s visit. When Bambam had first asked to see him, he thought Bambam had gotten into trouble – it wouldn’t have been the first time that happened.

“Yeah,” Bambam replied, his eyes studying his father’s lined, tired face. His father was so thin now. Bambam remembered how tall and fit his father had been when he was young, how every eye was drawn towards his father the moment they entered a room. As father and son, his father had been very imposing and quite detached in his mannerisms but there were moments of bonding and joy. It’s just that they were few and far between, especially as Bambam grew older.

“Well, boy,” said Mr Kun after a few moments of silence broken only by his heavy breathing, “out with it.”

“W-what?” asked Bambam, startled because he was caught in the midst of trying to open his mouth to talk about HK Enterprises and KZQ’s company history.

“You didn’t come to see me for nothing. What is it?” asked Mr Kun, a hint of the usual impatience in his voice. He hated time wasters.

“Well, I’m…,” but Bambam lost his words. “That is…” Bambam tried again.

“Out with it,” commanded Mr Kun.

“Right. Well, I was just wondering, you know, because we’re trying to work with a company in Hong Kong and they’ve been quite unresponsive so I was thinking about how you managed to get HK Enterprises to cooperate,” blurted Bambam, hoping that it sounded like a plausible explanation for wanting to ask about KZQ’s past business dealings. It was the best he could come up with without sounding like he was suspicious of anything.

“Ah,” replied Mr Kun with a small relaxed smile on his face again, “Choi was brilliant at that. He single-handedly secured the merger.” Mr Kun’s memory flashed back to Choi’s triumphant return from Hong Kong. He remembered his surprise at how Wang Ryu-ji had consented to the terms that Choi certainly hadn’t expected to be accepted. Surely Choi had expected some bargaining on Wang’s part but everything seemed fine.

Inwardly, Bambam’s heart leapt at his father’s answer. Was Choi the only one? In which case, his father had nothing to do with Jackson’s father’s murder? Did that mean that his own father had not murdered the father of one of his closest brothers?! So there needn’t be awkwardness between Jackson and him anymore! Bambam was elated!

While all that was whizzing through Bambam’s mind, Mr Kun began to cough. The incessant coughing shook Bambam out of his thoughts. Grabbing a glass of water from the nearby table, he held it out for his father to drink. Mr Kun took a sip and the cough slowly died away but it left him looking more worn out than ever.

“Are you alright, father?” asked Bambam, sitting down after placing the glass of water back on the table.

Mr Kun nodded, waving his hand dismissively. It was a weak gesture though, none of the usual power it originally had. Bambam’s heart saddened.

“Go ask Choi,” Mr Kun added, his voice much weaker, “He knows how to deal with them.”

Bambam nodded and was about to leave when he thought he’d might as well ask more, especially since he didn’t know when he’d be able to muster the courage to bring up this topic again.

“Mr Choi never told you anything, father?”

Mr Kun’s brow wrinkled as he tried to recall the days where KZQ expanded exponentially. “No,” he replied, “All he told me was that they had met, discussed, etc etc and the papers were signed.” After a moment’s pause, Mr Kun mused, “Shame Wang died. Wanted to meet him. Horrible accident it seems.”

“Ah, I see. Thank you, father,” said Bambam, standing up to take his leave.

“And Bambam,” called Mr Kun just as Bambam had reached the door. Bambam turned to see his father gesturing for him to go near again.

When Bambam reached his father’s side, his father did something he hadn’t done in years. He reached for Bambam’s hand. The gesture was so unexpected that Bambam didn’t know how to react.

“You’ve grown up well, either because of in spite of me,” said Mr Kun with a slight chuckle.“It’s nice to see you taking a more active role in things,” Mr Kun added, the smile on his face warm for he really meant it. Seeing Bambam finally take initiative in things delighted him more than he could have guessed. He had always been strict with Bambam, wanting him to grow up and be as great a man as he could be. Sometimes, he wondered what it would have been like to indulge Bambam more but his own father had brought him up in a strict household and it had worked. All Mr Kun could do was to follow his father’s example, he didn’t know how else to go about being a father.

“Father,” stammered Bambam, clasping his father’s hand in his own, feeling the thin fingers that were quite cold.

Mr Kun patted Bambam’s clasped hands with his free one, he could see that Bambam was getting choked up.

“There, there. You’d be fine. Keep your friends, alright? They’re important to you,” said Mr Kun, finally pulling his hand out of Bambam’s grasp.

“Right, I mean I will,” replied Bambam and though he knew he should leave, his feet remained rooted by his father’s bed. He wanted to tell his father that that small gesture and those spoken words were exceedingly precious to him, that all this while he had wanted his father to approve of him but thought his father disliked him.

Mr Kun looked into Bambam’s eyes, gave a slight smirk and waved him away. This time Bambam left.

“Bye father,” Bambam said as he left the room, it was returned with a nod on Mr Kun’s part.

*             *             *

Bambam hastened to _The Min_ , a café that basically served drinks and light desert. It had green tea ice-cream, which Bambam liked when it was served along with vanilla. The guys had already decided to meet there to discuss and share updates amongst themselves. JB had concluded that though it was too tedious to hide that the six of them were often together – six of them, because the plan was still for Jackson to be the ‘outcast’ – it was still better than meeting in the company.

This time, however, Bambam had called Jackson, begging him to come to _The Min_ too because there was something he had to tell Jackson in person. Jackson was still adamant that he shouldn’t be seen with any of them but Bambam convinced Jackson to just go to the café earlier. Bambam could then just walk in, it would seem like a coincidence to anyone tailing them. Jackson had reluctantly said yes and that he’d be there.

Oh, he couldn’t wait to tell Jackson! He just couldn’t wait!

*             *             *

As fate would have it, Mr Kun’s next visitor was Choi. They chatted as usual in the way that old comrades do.

“You seem happier today, Kun,” Choi commented, inwardly cursing the turn of fate. He had followed Kun’s weakening spirit like a rabid dog and it had seemed that the bell would toll for Kun at any moment. Yet, here he was looking brighter than he had the last time.

“You see, Bambam is finally taking interest in the company. The boy’s grown up,” announced Kun with pride in his voice.

“Ah, really,” responded Choi with a smile which hid the distaste he felt. ‘Grown up indeed,’ thought Choi. Ceaselessly ordering the newest gadget, prancing around the company as if he didn’t have a care in the world, leaving everything to his board of directors to manage. Hah! In fact, Choi would be doing KZQ a favour by taking over. Bambam wasn’t fit to head the company at all, and won’t be for a million years.

“What made you think so? Something must have happened, surely?” asked Choi.

Kun nodded. “In fact, just today, this afternoon really, we talked about you.”

“Did you?” responded Choi with a laugh, an alarm bell going off in his head. What was this? Why was he mentioned? Under what circumstances and in what context? It was true that he had mobilized some of his contacts but surely no one could have gotten wind of it yet. He had seen no sense in waiting any longer. He wanted to take over the moment Kun passed.

“What about, if I may ask?” Choi was careful to keep his tone jovial.

“Oh, Bambam had a problem and asked for advice, told him what a master you are in conducting business deals, especially in Ho–” Mr Kun broke off mid-sentence, thrown helplessly into a huge fit of wheezing coughing. Even when the fit was over, Kun couldn’t say a word.

“Kun?” said Choi who was watching Kun’s face turn blue. Kun tried to answer and began to gesture wildly, his hands grappled at his throat. It was evident that Kun couldn’t breathe.

“You alright, Kun?” asked Choi, who was perfectly at ease as he observed Kun’s eyes glance wildly for help. There were no doctors or nurses in the room because Choi and Kun always kept their conversations private. There was a CCTV but aside from that, no other monitoring devices were allowed except for the machine that recorded Kun’s beating heart.

Choi noticed that Kun was reaching for the red button that would alert his medical team. With an agility unsuited to a portly man who was quite far along in his years, Choi caught Kun’s hand in his.

“Tut tut, Kun. Just a little longer. I’ll call them,” hissed Choi, his eyes finally revealing the malicious enjoyment he felt in seeing Kun suffer. He didn’t worry. From the CCTV, he knew he’d just look like a concerned friend bending over to check how Kun was doing. Kun was horrified. To think the man he had trusted all this while would – Bambam –

“I’ll look after the company for you,” said Choi softly as Kun’s eyes rolled back into his head and the beeping that represented Kun’s heartbeat flatlined.

Immediately, Choi stabbed the red button and called wildly “Doctor! DOCTOR!”

*             *             *

Eagerly, with a smile he couldn’t hide, Bambam entered _The Min_ and there Jackson was, sitting in a corner with his back against the wall, mostly uneaten ice cream melted in a glass bowl before him. Jackson didn’t have much appetite.

“Jackson hyung!” cried Bambam, not really bothering to keep his voice down because he was so happy that his father was innocent. He rushed up to Jackson who looked startled and disapproving to say the least.

“My father’s innocent! He knew nothing! He knew nothing!” cried Bambam, proceeding to tell Jackson everything about his meeting with his father. Bambam was hopping where he stood, so excited was he to tell Jackson that there was no need to suspect his father who had nothing to do with the foul deed.

Jackson blinked, trying to process what Bambam was saying in rapid fire speed.

“Whoa, whoa, slow down! Who do you think you are? A rapper?” interrupted Jackson who had to hold both his palms up as a sign for Bambam to stop talking for a second. 

Bambam laughed. “In another life maybe,” Bambam said with a wink, taking a seat opposite Jackson.

Bambam’s happiness was infectious, Jackson was also beginning to smile. It was as if a huge wall had been removed between them.

“That’s great to hear, Bambam,” said Jackson with utmost sincerity, forgetting for a moment that he was supposed to maintain a sullen persona. He caught himself and slapped on a frown again.

“Now I gotta go,” Jackson said, getting up to leave.

“Hyung, must you? Why?”

“You know why,” hissed Jackson in return. He brushed past Bambam, seemingly pushing Bambam out of the way in a rude manner but it was all a guise. Jackson’s hand managed to hold Bambam’s hand for a brief moment to give it a reassuring squeeze.

“Ah, hyung~~~” came Bambam’s voice as Jackson headed towards the door only to bump into JB and a couple of others who had just arrived.

JB’s eyes widened in surprise and a disgruntled look soon came upon his face.

“What are you doing here?” hissed JB, no pretence of hostility between them necessary at that moment because JB was truly quite irritated with Jackson. What was he doing here, especially when the rest were meeting for updates? They’d communicate their updates to him as they usually did, through Mark.

“Ask him,” Jackson hissed back, using his thumb to point at Bambam who had suddenly received a phone call while he was clearing up the glass bowl that had contained Jackson’s ice cream off the table.

Jackson made to push past the guys, JB still looking unhappy, when the sound of shattering glass made him turn around.

Bambam stood in the middle of the café floor, broken glass at his feet, his phone to his ear and his face in utter shock, his eyes fixed on the six guys at the doorway.

Yugyeom rushed over, kicking broken glass out of harm’s way and slid an arm around Bambam’s shoulders not a moment too soon because Bambam’s legs began to give way. Yugyeom helped him to the closest chair while the rest of the guys, including Jackson, followed suit.

“Bambam, what’s wrong?” asked Yugyeom, concern dripping from every word while his hand rubbed Bambam’s back.

Bambam’s unseeing gaze was now locked on the floor. Slowly, Bambam looked up, his eyes haunted and afraid. He opened his mouth to speak but had to try a second time. Finally he got the words out, barely loud enough for them to hear.

“It’s… my father… He’s passed away.”


	15. Out in the open

It was a sombre day for the Korean business world for it had lost one of its most recognised and respected leaders. Fellow conglomerate heads and distinguished entrepreneurs were all flying to Seoul to attend Mr Kun’s funeral. It was a huge occasion, with services lasting three days to give everyone who wanted to come a chance to pay their respects. Held in a city hall nearby the Kun family home, teams of people were employed to cater to the visitors and relatives. Though it was an extremely sombre occasion, there was a tremendous but hushed hustle and bustle to ensure that everything went smoothly – that Mr Kun was given a respectful send off, so to speak.

And at the forefront of it all was Mr Kun’s only son who was poised to take over KZQ officially. Bambam had been swept up in a whirlwind, being ferried to and fro from meetings with lawyers, shareholders and relatives aside from having an unbelievable amount of press conferences with their media team. It was an endless stream of ‘necessary’ commitments – necessary for the public, necessary for the company – but utterly unnecessary for Bambam. True, he had not been close to his father most of his life but his father had stood for more than he had realised. To have that removed from his life made Bambam feel like – like he was not Bambam anymore.

At all the services, Bambam had stood by a large, imposing photograph of his father at his prime, and had shaken countless of hands from the families of the company’s staff to foreign ambassadors, all of whom wished him well. The crowd was large and faces changed all the time but five stood by Bambam whenever they could. The other was still playing his role as the isolated and obsessed director.

Finally catching a break, Bambam hurried to a room that had been designated for his private use and slammed the door behind him. He sank down into an armchair and buried his face in his hands. He was slowly beginning to realise how drained and exhausted he had become but at least it was the last day. His father would be buried the following morning. At that thought, something stuck in Bambam’s throat. He had avoided picturing his father’s coffin lowered into the ground because… because it would mean the end wouldn’t it? It’d be the last time he’d ever see his father on this earth.

Bambam swallowed hard and squeezed his eyes shut just as the door opened. He glanced up, ready to order whoever it was away when, to his relief, he saw his five friends troop in one after another.

“Hey Bammie,” Yugyeom said, immediately standing behind the armchair to give Bambam’s tensed shoulders a firm massage.

“Hey guys,” replied Bambam, clearing his throat and shaking away the depressing thoughts he had had moments before. “Thanks for coming.”

“Anytime, Bambam, you know that,” said Jinyoung, his gentle voice warm and sincere with care for one of the youngest of the lot.

“Thanks,” came Bambam’s reply, not really looking at the guys. They knew that Bambam was in a vulnerable state but they also knew Bambam had the strength in him to carry on. Truly, Bambam’s conduct during the past few days was beyond reproach. He had taken on and acted out every last bit of responsibility he bore as Mr Kun’s sole heir and now CEO of KZQ Enterprise. He’d get through this, and the six of them, including Jackson, would see that they did everything they could to make that happen.

JB glanced around at the guys swiftly before clearing his throat. “Choi is coming today. He’s on his way.”

All eyes in the room focused on JB. Choi being the last one to see Mr Kun alive notwithstanding, the old man’s actions and said reason for going around to notify their closest friends in person raised much concern – what was he doing? What were his intentions? Plus, this was to be the first time Choi would meet Bambam since Mr Kun’s passing.

“We’ve got to be careful. Watch him, watch who he talks to, who he looks at. Watch what his entourage does. But be discreet,” JB told the guys who all nodded. “He must not know that we suspect him. Remember our two aims. First, get Kim’s phone. Second, watch how they react to Jackson.”

“Yes sir,” replied Youngjae but his usual kind and honest face showed his discomfort. He wasn’t able to hide stuff like this well. What if he let the guys down?

JB saw the worry, walked up to Youngjae and slid an arm over his shoulders. “You’re not alone, remember that, alright?” Youngjae nodded gladly. That’s right, they were doing this together.

“You too, Bambam,” JB said, looking across at his young boss. “We’ve got your back.  Jackson will come and we’ll see what happens.”

Bambam pursed his lips and got up. “Let’s do this.”

“Remember,” JB added, “our main target is Kim’s phone. Try to get it done before Jackson gets here because we don’t know what Choi is going to do.”

The guys nodded in unison and left the room together, determined to put an audio bug and trace, both hidden in a nondescript mobile phone battery, on Kim who was certain to be with Choi. Choi was too much of a sly old fox to risk such a manoeuvre on. Kim, on the other hand, was a much easier target. They each had plans to try to accomplish this – the only question was who would succeed.

They entered the funeral parlour as a group and soon, Bambam resumed his position as one of his distant relatives chided him for having left the room.

“You have to grow up, boy, what’s going to happen if-” and the nag went on and on. Bambam caught Mark’s watchful eye and gave a slight smile. He was used to this, especially after days of it. Bambam continued greeting the guests, thanking them for coming and receiving their wishes of condolence but they were just blurred faces.

He was waiting for one man – and, lo and behold, that one man stepped into the hall with a large entourage, flanked by Kim. From where he stood, Bambam disliked how almost everyone in the hall turned to acknowledge Choi’s entrance – Choi, who had an extremely sombre and pained expression on his face as if he were the one who had lost a family member. Bambam disliked it even more when many people took the effort to wish Choi well and to comfort him.

Hastily though, Bambam checked his expression. He must not show any dislike or suspicion. He had to pretend to still think of this man as Uncle Choi, the man who’d buy him gifts all the time when he was young. Looking back though, it was obvious to Bambam now how everything had been calculated. Still, he did not have any proof that Choi did cause his father’s death but his gut feeling said Choi was the one.

Bambam watched as Choi took heavy steps forward, his arms extended as if he wanted to hug Bambam. It was a good thing that Choi seemed to change his mind and just stuck out his right hand instead.

“My dear, dear boy,” Choi said chokingly, as he grasped Bambam’s hand, “I am so sorry I couldn’t be here earlier. Believe me, I would have stayed by your side to help but…” Choi cleared his throat as if to collect himself, “I wanted to tell our friends in person. Your father would have wanted that.”

‘And how the hell do you know what my father wanted?!’ screamed Bambam in his head but outwardly, he kept a grave face. “Thank you, Uncle Choi. Thank you for coming.”

“Not at all, boy, not at all.” Choi looked up at the enormous portrait of his former business partner. “It’s a sad, sad day,” Choi commented, shaking his head. “Ah, but I mustn’t keep you from your duties. You have others to greet.”

With that, Choi stepped aside to allow the rest of his entourage to personally offer their condolences while he studied the room. There were a few individuals he wanted to, for lack of a better word, ‘speak’ to and, ah-ha. There they were. For a moment, an ugly glint appeared in Choi’s eye but he took care to hide it. It wouldn’t do for others to notice. He had to play the part of a grieving friend to the utmost of his ability.

The guys were ready, watching every move. Even if they missed anything, hopefully the many cameras and audio bugs they had hidden around the hall would do the trick. JB and Jinyoung were just waiting to see which table Choi and Kim would choose to sit at and should they split, in fact that was what hopefully would happen, JB and Jinyoung would shadow Choi while Mark, Youngjae and Yugyeom would target Kim. They could have bugged someone else from the entourage in hopes that they might catch a man or two with a loose tongue but they couldn’t place much hope on that. They knew Choi kept his cards very close to his chest. Kim was the number one target – or rather, his phone.

Turns out the guys had no such luck. Kim stuck to Choi like glue and after some botched attempts to approach the table where the two men sat, the guys and JB in particular were going crazy with nerves. Kim hadn’t taken his phone out once and all they needed to bug it was a slight of hand. No one, practically no one, removed their phone covers anymore so replacing its battery would be most advantageous. The problem was how to get the phone.

Finally, finally, just as the guys were about to resort to desperate measures, Kim’s phone rang and he took it out to answer the call. It was a short one, just to relay a message and Kim soon hung up, after which he leaned forwards to whisper something to Choi. That darn phone though, Kim had placed it on the table but his hand was covering it.

Quite obsessed with Kim’s phone, a few moments lapsed before the guys noticed that Choi was watching the entrance of the hall, as if he were expecting someone. Who was he waiting for?

Soon enough, a familiar figure arrived – it was Jackson with a grim, determined look on his face. Dressed appropriately for the funeral service, Jackson took a quick glance to survey the hall, instantly locating Choi, Kim and the guys, along with the secret signal to say that they hadn’t gotten their hands on Kim’s phone yet. But first things first, Jackson approached the front of the hall where Bambam stood.

This was the first time Jackson had been able to see Bambam after that day at the café whenBambam had heard the horrible news of his father’s passing. Jackson knew Bambam was hurting and having so recently lost his own mother, Jackson felt very attuned to Bambam’s emotional state. However, he had been prevented from contacting Bambam and the rest of the guys – being updated only through means JB had established to keep things secret.

That was just one of the many things Jackson had to bear in mind – he was at odds with the rest of the guys. He had to act like he didn’t care about the company any longer and was meant to be lackadaisical at his job, supposedly obsessed with looking for that Yoo guy. In many ways, Jackson was the mouse and Choi was the cat. Jackson had to hide and pretend to scurry around to keep the cat’s attention occupied and one of it was to let Choi think that it would be easy to break the team apart.

Jackson walked up to Bambam, whispers accompanying him because KZQ employees questioned why Jackson even bothered to come. Once respected in the company, Jackson was now seen as a wayward director, who, according to some, should step down or be fired.

Jackson knew what the whispers were about and loathed that he had to keep up the act in front of all these people especially when all he wanted to do was envelop Bambam in a tight hug.

As such, Jackson reached the front, gave a stiff bow in respect of the deceased and turned to face the CEO of KZQ.

“My condolences,” said Jackson, his voice devoid of emotion but try as he could, Jackson couldn’t keep his concern for Bambam from showing on his face.

Bambam merely nodded in return because standing up close to Jackson, he could see the slight tremble of his lips and worry in his older brother’s eyes. Bambam knew Jackson loved him as a brother and at that moment, Bambam wanted nothing more than to bury himself in Jackson’s arms and cry his heart out.

But Bambam held back. A little longer. Until all this was over and Choi was arrested for all the foul deeds he had committed.

The curt exchange done, Jackson turned on his heels and without further ado, headed towards Choi who had been watching the exchange from where he sat.

With each step he took, Jackson replayed the rehearsed lines that he was to say to Choi because the guys had decided that it was time for Jackson to go head to head with his father’s murderer. And what better place to do it than in a crowded funeral hall. For one thing, it prevented Choi and his cronies from killing Jackson on the spot. Also, it was a good opportunity to see who in Choi’s group were in the know.

As Choi watched Jackson come closer and closer, every line of his face hardened while his greying eyes became ever more watchful. Kim, on the other hand, was looking from Choi to Jackson and back to Choi again, uncertainty evident in his every move. JB, who had his eyes on Kim’s phone, was finally able to slide unnoticed into a group of people nearby. It was still on the table – just a few feet away.

Jackson stopped and stood two feet away from Choi was who was still sitting down, the attention of his entire entourage fixed on Jackson’s unexpected behaviour.

“Mr Choi,” greeted Jackson with a flat tone similar to that he had used to greet Bambam earlier.

Choi just looked at Jackson, inclining his head once ever so slightly. The last thing he expected was this boy who had been running around the countryside and port villages looking for Yoo to approach him directly like this in front of so many people. Besides, there was something about Jackson’s demeanour that made him uneasy. Still, Choi hadn’t gotten to his position by acting cowardly. Not at all. Should this brat test him, he’d make sure Jackson pay a painful and most excruciating price.

After a few moments of silence during which Jackson and Choi just studied each other, Jackson decided to make another move.

“You came to pay your respects, I suppose?” commented Jackson with a growing look of accusation in his eyes.

Choi could not help but scoff. “Why else? And you boy,” Choi responded, “have come to do the same, I suppose?” mimicking Jackson’s speech.  “I had the impression you were no longer concerned about KZQ.”

“Of course I came to pay my respects,” Jackson replied with a shrug but he didn’t break eye contact until he turned to address the man sitting next to Choi, “Would you be so kind as to let me have your seat for a moment? I wish to have a conversation with Mr Choi.” Jackson was careful to ask very politely so the man had no choice but to agree even after Choi gave him a hard, disapproving look. The man got up and Jackson took his seat.

“You see, Mr Choi,” Jackson said, locking eyes again with the man he loathed to the very core of his soul, “I know what it’s like to lose a loved one.” To his grim pleasure, he watched the pupils of Choi’s eyes dilate ever so slightly.

“It’s life, boy,” replied Choi after some moments of consideration.Choi’s lips tightened in a straight line while a dozen questions ran through his mind. Why was Jackson saying this? What were his intentions? How much did he know?

“Ah, but it’s different for me, I believe,” said Jackson, glancing down as he clasped his hands together on his lap before looking back into Choi’s eyes with a piercing gaze. “After all, losing those you love is not the same as having them taken away from you, by force,” Jackson added.

It took quite some effort for Choi to sit still. He did not like where this conversation was heading. The fact that so many people were watching made it all the more important for Choi to keep his composure.

“Ah, is that so?” answered Choi, a note of steel entering his own voice.

“I assure you it is, very much so,” replied Jackson with a solemn nod.

This time, however, Choi didn’t answer as it was clear that Jackson had a hidden agenda that did not bode well.

“But perhaps it has never crossed your mind, Mr Choi, of how those who have their loved ones taken away from them suffer?” mused Jackson, leaning in closer so that he and Choi were only afoot or two apart. “Perhaps you’ve never thought of the consequences of taking such actions?” Satisfied that he was causing Choi to become increasingly unsettled and even angry, Jackson relaxed a little and sat back.

“Of course, a man of high ‘calibre’ such as yourself,” Jackson commented in a lighter tone though sarcasm was evident in every word, “would never bother about things like that, why, you wouldn’t consider it in a million years.”

Choi didn’t like Jackson’s tone and decided to switch his approach to this ‘conversation’.

“Really now, I do not consider it my place to advice you, Jackson Chong, about your conduct,” said Choi in an extremely condescending manner, “neither is this the place to do so. Not when we’re mourning the loss of a great leader and I, the loss of a dear friend.” Choi glanced around at those who were starting to crowd in to listen to their exchange and noted, with pleasure, that some nodded solemnly in agreement with his words.

“Our beloved leader of many years gave his all for the company, to bring it to its glory that you see today,” Choi continued with the air of one giving a eulogy because now he was speaking for the crowd, not for Jackson. “And you, young lad, should put in just as much if not more into continuing Kun’s legacy. Not squander your time as you have done of late.” Tsks and tuts were heard from the crowd who obviously did not think well of Jackson.

Inwardly, Jackson was seething – so Choi wanted to grandstand, eh? Both could play that game, thought Jackson with grim satisfaction.

“Ah, Mr Choi, of course, of course you’re right. You always are,” said Jackson smoothly but raising the volume of his own naturally loud voice so that their ‘audience’ had no problems listening. “And yes, I should work hard for KZQ, just as hard as you have. You’ve done SO much for the company, Mr Choi. Aren’t I right?”

Choi’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Where was Jackson going with this? Choi had faced many a formidable man but this young lad kept side-stepping him. Had he been underestimating this boy all this while?

“It is not my place to say, young man,” said Choi, doing a good enough job at pretending to sound humble. “All I wanted was to help my friend.”

“You certainly have. Why – think of all the things you’ve done, Mr Choi! All the projects you’ve headed, all the contracts you’ve secured, amazing man, absolutely amazing.”

Again, Choi studied Jackson very carefully. To onlookers, it would seem that Jackson was sincerely praising Choi but Choi knew better. Up close, he could see a glint in Jackson’s eyes that could be cause for concern.

“I’ll change my ways. I must ‘learn’ from you, of course,” cried Jackson, leaning forwards in pretence of acting enthusiastic. “While you’re around, that is,” added Jackson, his own eyes narrowing to signal to Choi the hidden intention in his words. As long as you live – which may not be for long.

“Oh, oh,” exclaimed Jackson, his voice louder now as he clapped his hands excitedly, “you must tell me about how you handle mergers. I have SO much trouble with those. You do them so well, you know, like HK Enterprises.” As he said the name of his father’s company, his voice dropped a note – not in volume but in tone, just in case Choi didn’t get the message.

Choi did. The eyes he had narrowed earlier widened, partially in anger and partially in shock. All these years, he had tried to bury that name. By Jackson’s demeanour, it was obvious that Jackson had traced it back to him. One name came to mind – Kim! That buffoon! He was to threaten and fool Jackson, to prevent him from ever finding out. Instead, what had happened?! The boy had the gall to bring the topic up in front of staff and acquaintances.

Choi couldn’t help but glance at Kim who had a terrified look on his face. Kim knew Choi was very very angry, he could see it even from the way Choi held himself. All Kim could do was to sit there, hypnotized by the exchange and when Choi glanced at him, Kim instinctively raised his arms to his chest as if to fend off any attack. Even when Choi turned back to face Jackson, Kim kept his arms subconsciously raised.

‘THIS WAS IT’ thought JB! The group he was with had inched closer and closer to Choi’s table the entire time during the exchange and finally, Kim’s hand was off his phone. There could never be a better chance!

Unnoticed, JB slid the phone off the table and held it under his jacket where, in practised motions of his deft fingers, he removed the cover and replaced the battery all in about a second. It would have been faster had he not have to wear gloves but they couldn’t risk any of their fingerprints on the bugged battery. With his heart pounding in his ears, JB returned Kim’s phone to the exact same location on the table – not that Kim would notice any changes. Kim and the entire table were focused on Choi and Jackson as the exchange continued. It was getting more heated.

“Harrumph,” coughed Choi, eager to not draw out that particular topic, “this is not the place for a lesson boy. Please respect Kun and his family.”

“Once again, you are absolutely right, Mr Choi. Absolutely right,” agreed Jackson, nodding solemnly. After a moment’s pause, Jackson slapped his hands on his thighs and stood up.

“Will you shake hands with me? Mr Choi? As a sign that I should take things more seriously now?” Jackson held out his right hand, waiting. He knew Choi couldn’t refuse – not with the way Jackson had phrased it. Choi had to keep up pretences, to continue being the friendly, wise and concerned advisor to the young team of directors.

Reluctantly, Choi got to his feet and the eyes of his entourage and all those watching watched him rise and extend his hand.

As if he had been waiting for the chance, Jackson grasped Choi’s hand as hard as he could and pulled Choi towards him, locking his left arm behind Choi’s shoulders in order to hold Choi’s head close to his.

“You murderer. In Wang Ryu-ji’s honour, you will pay,” hissed Jackson harshly into Choi’s ear.

Choi could not stop himself. Though not one for physical confrontation, Choi pulled himself out of Jackson’s grasp and in blind rage, threw back a fist to punch Jackson. No one threatened him like this! No one!

Jackson just stood his ground – his eyes clearly challenging Choi to do his worst but Kim and the entourage reacted just as quickly. When Jackson had abruptly pulled Choi into his grasp, the men had actually started forwards. Now, they, or rather Kim, grabbed hold of Choi’s arm to stop him. “You could be sued,” murmured Kim, just loud enough for Choi to hear him. Choi was breathing hard, his eyes bulging in anger.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr Choi,” Jackson said after he was certain that Choi wasn’t going to punch him after all. “Do you not like hugs? I like hugs, I tend to hug people a lot. Ah, it must be because I’m from Singapore. If I have offended you, I am sorry.” Even JB smirked at Jackson’s quick wit. What a way to respond in that potentially explosive situation.

“We’re leaving,” announced Choi loudly to his men. Tugging the lapels of his coat into place, Choi stopped for a moment by Jackson’s side.

“See you at the shareholder meeting,” Choi said, his glance at Jackson’s face showed that there was a lot more to his words than just the usual boring meet that went on for hours.

“You certainly will, Mr Choi. You certainly will!” called Jackson as Choi and his group of man brushed past him. Jackson watched as the group trooped out of the hall, wishing he had been able to do more, to say more. Dissatisfied, he turned back to see that the audience was still watching him. Being the centre of unwarranted attention was unnecessary right now so he watched out for the guys, looking for signs that the mission had been accomplished. If not, Jackson was ready to run after Choi and Kim to get into a fistfight just so he could knock the phone out into the open.

To his relief, he saw JB wink, which, just to add, is quite a feat considering how narrow JB’s eyes were. Jackson double blinked in return to acknowledge that he understood and with hasty bows and a last glance at Bambam who by now was nearby (Jackson hadn’t noticed him during the commotion), Jackson left the hall.

Of course, Jackson hadn’t driven to the funeral. Knowing Choi and the gang, they’d be waiting to pounce on him right outside the entrance. Instead, Jackson went into a nearby room and waited until Jinyoung was ready to leave. He’d be hiding out in Jinyoung’s studio for a while. 


	16. Worth waiting for?

“To our honoured shareholders and esteemed board members, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to KQZ’s Annual Shareholder meeting,” announced Jinyoung’s assistant, looking polished and well-rehearsed though it was his first time chairing such a grand occasion especially in front of the imposing crowd of important and powerful people in the room.

The meeting always took place on a grand-scale, held in one of the grand ballrooms of one of the many five star hotels in Seoul. They needed the space to accompany those who attended the meeting especially when they had to be careful about rank where the major shareholders sat in comfortable armchairs clustered round low tables near the front (tables that were loaded with expensive nibbles and wine), followed by those who held enough shares to have a say in the proceedings arranged along long rows of chairs and tables and finally, those who held very little shares but were curious about the company.

In light of Bambam’s father’s recent demise, this shareholder meeting was even more important. It was essentially the first time Bambam and his team were presented to be in full control of KQZ and the weight of that responsibility seemed visible in the very composure of the seven men who sat on stage in the front row of the cluster of board members and executive council. From the bug they had planted in Kim’s phone, they were sure that some plans were being made but they did not know for certain what those plans were. Was Choi going to make good on his mildly-veiled threat to Jackson at the funeral? Perhaps.

It was a worry, one that they couldn’t afford to brush off but at the same time, they had to handle this meeting well.

Jinyoung had coached his assistant for ages, insisting on countless rehearsals to nail the right intonation and pace in order to project a good image. It had to be perfect. They needed to convince the shareholders that the company will continue going strong. Jinyoung took a quick glance at his team to see how they were responding to his assistant. JB caught Jinyoung’s eyes and gave a quick approving nod which made Jinyoung give a very small smile of thanks in return. He settled back into his seat and prayed that the rest of the meeting will be just as smooth.

There were a few important items on the agenda, not least of which was getting the official approval from the shareholders to agree to a revised budget for their company but most of all, to officially recognise Bambam as their one and only CEO whilst significantly reducing in veiled terms, the role of Choi and his team who were still listed as advisors to KQZ.

In the aftermath of Mr. Kun’s demise, Choi had increasingly inserted himself and his team into the mechanics of the company. While Mr. Kun had been alive, Choi had pretended to be the quiet, reserved though hard-to-please advisor who played up his years of experience in the field. Now with Mr. Kun gone, it seemed there was very little holding Choi back and his true nature was starting to show. He had already thwarted two important business deals citing conflicts of interest in order to push his own connections forward. Coupled with the fact that Choi had hinted tauntingly at cutting the finance provision for the Hoonan project, JB and his team had to act. The longer they let Choi be, the more detrimental it would be for the company.

With such lead up to the meeting, it was tangible for there to be a sense of tension in the room. The major shareholders had sensed the power tussle between the former and present generation of directors with both sides trying to persuade them to vote in favour of the respective party.

 

The meeting droned on with the usual financial reports – and no sign of Choi. Jackson could barely keep his nerves in check, itching as he was to shake his leg, he couldn’t. Not in front of the shareholders.

Finally, it was time to table items for voting.

Item one, the new budget – passed.

Item two, recognition of Bambam as the sole CEO of KQZ – Bambam held his breath, knowing that some shareholders would count his young age and lack of experience against him – passed.

Bambam was extremely relieved and though to onlookers, it seemed that Bambam wasn’t at all fazed, the guys knew better. They could see the diminishing intense look he had in his eyes once the announcement was made and when, against decorum, Bambam turned to glance at the guys on either side of him, they replied with small but proud smiles. The Bambam from a few months ago would have whooped and cheered, probably brandishing a boyish smile at the shareholders but the Bambam that sat in front of them now had, simply put, grown up. He sat up straighter, shoulders squared and held his head with a determined air. He will lead the company. He will do his best for his father.

“Item number three,” announced Jinyoung’s assistant and the general buzz in the room stilled a little, “portfolio of KQZ advisory committee.” Jinyoung’s assistant then proceeded to read out the horribly legalistic sounding jargon that basically meant the role of the advisory committee, namely Choi and his gang, would be significantly diminished. Jackson had argued for Choi be removed entirely but that would be too big a change, JB countered. They just had to do enough, just enough and this was an important step.

The executive committee sitting behind the guys, some obviously sided with Choi, began muttering to each other as votes were cast while Jackson instinctively watched the entrance. Choi wasn’t present and no one had raised any objections. The votes were being collected by staff who went around with clear ballot boxes. Could it be?

Jackson licked his lips nervously. His eyes flicked between the boxes and the entrance. Were Choi’s words just an empty threat then? Had he no guts? Surely he knew what they guys wanted to do, surely his legal team would have advised him? What did Choi have planned if he didn’t even bother turning up for –

 

BANG – the doors to the room swung open for Choi and his men to walk in with pomp.

“Stop the proceedings!” yelled Kim, brandishing some papers in his hand as he marched right up to the podium. Jinyoung’s assistant was stunned, voices were raised, people stood up from their seats. The stupor in which most of the meeting had proceeded vanished without a trace to be replaced by gossipy murmurs and curious watchful eyes.

Kim stood by the podium expectantly and with a nervous lost glance at Jinyoung, the MC stepped aside. Giving the MC a withering condescending glance, Kim cleared his throat into the microphone which made Jackson grit his teeth.

“Ahem,” Kim huffed as chairs were brought for Choi and his men to sit down on stage – which they blatantly took. Bambam was frozen in his own seat, trying to process what was happening.

“We wish to announce that Item number three is void as it was proposed without the required fulfilment of Clause 3.5, Article 48 on page 17 of KZQ’s charter which s-stipulates,” read Kim aloud, stumbling over a few words that were obviously way beyond his normal day to day language. Choi grimaced ever so slightly at Kim’s incompetence but chose to enjoy the look of shock on Bambam’s face more than anything else.

Jinyoung, who had been responsible for the documents plunged into a hasty discussion with his team behind him that came to one conclusion – What Kim said was true. They had messed up. Jinyoung had messed up. In disbelief, he turned to look at Choi who was trying very hard to hide the glee that he felt at watching the young boys scramble to deal with what he had thrown at them.

‘Trying to get rid of me, are you?’ Choi mused, his eyes openly challenging the seven men, meeting each of their gazes in turn. ‘Nice try but I’m beyond your reach.’ Then Choi’s eyes met Jackson’s and he felt the rage in him surge.

‘You insolent brat. I’ll see to it that you suffer.’

‘Do what you will, Choi, you’ll pay for everything.’

They held each other’s gaze, defiance and challenge evident in every line of their faces. Both refused to back down and Jackson was finding it extremely hard to remain seated. He longed to hurl across the stage and give Choi what the scumbag deserved but he couldn’t. Not at such a meeting. The only thing that reminded him where he was and kept his grounded was Mark.

Mark had noticed Jackson’s body jerk the moment Choi walked into the room and instinctively reached out to place his hand over Jackson’s own. Without looking, Jackson knew who it was, not by logic but by touch. Jackson’s nerves were on edge, his knuckles clenched white yet when Mark brushed his thumb over the back of Jackson’s hand, the action stilled him like nothing else could.

Jackson closed his eyes, breaking eye contact and swallowed. Mark knew how badly looking away first would sting for Jackson and tightened his grip on his best friend’s hand, trying to reassure Jackson that by no means did this heated momentary challenge signify any win or loss.

Kim had droned on until he finished by inviting Choi to the podium. Choi rose from his seat slowly and walked with heavy steps towards the podium with the air of being hurt and extremely disappointed in what was happening. His pretence magnified once he opened his mouth to speak.

“Dear, dear shareholders, or may I say dear friends. I assure you that, we, my friends and I, are appalledand saddened that the new management thought it necessary to remove us from our roles as advisors, which we have only served to our utmost ability. It was at Kun’s request that we left behind comfortable lives of retirement to guide the new generation, to watch over the company we ourselves have built and invested in with our own sweat and tears. We did so with sincerity and loyalty.”

As Choi’s speech unfolded, during which time the seven guys grew increasingly agitated, it became apparent that he was proposing a new item on the agenda.

“In view of such thoughtless and ill-advised actions, I propose a new item for voting.” Choi paused for dramatic effect, drawing himself to his full height and announced,“I propose that the present individuals who hold advisory posts will take on fuller responsibilities and be inserted back into management.”

At this, uproar broke out in the room. Most of those present were bewildered, confused, some seemed relieved at the idea while others were upset. But all that was nothing compared to the present management who looked at each other with wide surprised eyes. This was a forced corporate takeover.

Jinyoung, for one, lost all composure. Standing up and crossing the stage, he yelled, “You can’t do that! There are procedures for a proposal. It has to be read and approved by-”

Choi took one withering look at Jinyoung before turning back to the microphone to say for all to hear, “The procedures have been followed. The proposal has been approved by all the major shareholders to be put to vote. These,” Choi paused to gesture at Kim who marched over to Jinyoung and shoved some documents into his hands, “these are the papers. Signed. Approved. Official.”

Jinyoung staggered back to his seat, eyes skimming the paperwork and after a few quick moments, his face blanched and with him, so did the rest. If even Jinyoung couldn’t find anything wrong, then…

Jackson glowered at Choi, disgust no longer hidden even if the old man could not see him. JB, on the other hand, was watching the major shareholders very carefully and noted that they had very grim and resigned expressions on their faces. In fact, some of them even looked guilty.

“Dear friends,” said Choi again, holding up his hands as if in surrender, his sharp edge of his voice now replaced by weariness,“please do understand that this proposal is for the well-being and benefit of KQZ, for you, our dear shareholders, for us all. If the first act that the new management has taken is to remove those of us who only sought to guide them, please do consider what such strong-headedness and ill-advised actions might indicate for the future. I leave the decision to you.” With that, Choi stepped out from behind the podium, gave a deep bow that lasted for a few seconds and went back to his seat.

Choi took out his handkerchief from his pocket and proceeded to wipe his forehead as if drained but beneath it, Jackson could discern a sly smile and it made his blood boil. With Bambam in a daze, it was JB who took charge. JB had a low conversation with Jinyoung who then went over to his assistant.

“Sir, are you sure?” asked his assistant anxiously in return.

All Jinyoung could do was nod before he returned to his seat, after which, he buried his face in his hands as he hunched over in defeat.

“Jinyoung hyung,” murmured Bambam, who still looked shell-shocked.

“I’m sorry, Bambam. The papers are in order. There’s… there’s nothing we can do.”

“B-but we,” stuttered Bambam only for JB to place a warning hand on his shoulder.

“We’ll get through this,” JB told him in a low voice and gripped Bambam’s shoulder harder. “Remember that. We’ll get through this.”

Jinyoung’s assistant assumed his position as the MC and announced that votes would now be taken on the new proposal and tallied.

Everyone waited with bated breath as the votes were collected and counted. The results were brought to the MC. Shaken upon reading what the innocent slip of paper meant, he seemed to need a moment or two for before he could speak. A worried glance at his superior whose complexion had lost all colour, he announced in a tremulous voice, “The votes are in favour of the proposal. Henceforth, the advisory team will be part of the management.”

Before the MC was even done speaking, Kim and Choi were going around shaking hands, clapping each other on the back or shoulders with big smiles on their faces. As it was the last item on the agenda, Jinyoung’s assistant officially ended the meeting but no one seemed to want to leave initially. They were all caught up with what had just happened right before their eyes but gradually, the main shareholders left even as JB hastened to have a word or two with a few of them. The staff then took their cue from Youngjae and ushered every share holder out of the room.

Choi and his team lingered and Jackson could not stand the crowing. When Choi actually had the gall to approach Bambam, Jackson pushed Mark’s hand away and stood in front of his petrified friend as if to shield him from Choi.

“Jackson,” warned Mark in a low murmur, not hesitating to wrap an arm around Jackson’s waist to pull him aside. He could not act up and risk making a mistake, not now, not here.

Blinking, Bambam got to his feet as Choi stopped a couple of feet away from him. Choi reached out a hand for a handshake and Bambam raised his own in a trance.

“This is for the best,” Choi said with a sigh as he shook Bambam’s hand but the glint in his eyes showed otherwise. The old man was practically exploding in happiness. “I’ll see you in office.”

Nodding at Bambam, he glanced at Bambam’s team who had stood up to surround him. Yugyeom’s jaw was clenched, Youngjae’s honest face showed the disgust he felt, Jinyoung looked pale and guilty while JB stood like the rock he was, unfazed by the unspoken challenge.  If anything, JB had a more determined look than ever, something which Choi noted to address soon enough.

Lastly, he saved the best for last, Choi’s eyes slid from Mark’s unsmiling face to Jackson’s. Mark could feel Jackson’s body tensing and tightened his grip on Jackson’s waist. Choi tilted his head a little, as if relishing what choice words he could say at this point to inflict the most pain.

“Well, Jackson,” Choi finally voiced, the evil smirk spread on his face without needing to be hidden any longer, “this meeting was worth waiting for, was it not?”

Something inside Jackson snapped. He lunged but Mark caught him, stepping bodily in between Choi and Jackson to prevent his friend from doing anything rash. Hugging Jackson even tighter as Jackson made to push him away, Mark murmured into Jackson’s ear, “Don’t, Jackson. Please.”

Choi laughed tauntingly. “No need to be so enthusiastic, boy. After all,” Choi said right before he turned away with a lazy wave of his hand, “there’s plenty of time to play.”

Jackson tried to jerk out of Mark’s grasp and alone, he would have overpowered Mark but JB stepped in as well, locking his own arms around Jackson’s shoulders and torso to hold him back. Youngjae followed JB’s lead and also took hold of Jackson. With two others ensuring that Jackson could not go after the object of his hatred, Mark freed his hands to grasp Jackson’s face firmly, forcing his friend to look at him though Jackson’s eyes were fixated on Choi’s retreating back.

“Hey, Jackson,” Mark saidcalmly though his eyes were anxious, “Look at me.” When Jackson didn’t pay him any attention and still continued to struggle, Mark dropped his voice and almost pleaded.

“Jackson, please, just – just look at me,” Mark murmured, his hands anchored just beneath both sides of Jackson’s jaw.

There was something in Mark’s voice that made it through the haze of anger that Jackson had been lost in. Jackson blinked slowly as if he just realised that Mark was right in front of him. “Mark,” breathed Jackson as he stopped fighting to free himself from their grasp but the desire to beat Choi to a pulp still burned, “I – he –”

“We’ll get him, okay? We promised you,” Mark reminded Jackson, softening his grasp so that he now held Jackson’s face gently in his hands. “I promised you,” added Mark softly.

Jackson looked into Mark’s earnest eyes for a moment before he gulped hard. Squeezing his eyes shut, he dropped his forehead on Mark’s shoulder, forcing himself to take rattled breaths in order to calm down. Mark’s hands instinctively rested on Jackson’s lower back, patting him soothingly just like he always did when Jackson was upset.

“We have to regroup,” JB informed them once as Jackson calmed down. “Bam’s office. In an hour.” Everyone nodded grimly.


	17. Moving Forward

Choi’s takeover was rampant. One of the first things he did soon after the shareholders meeting was to fire Jackson and the old geezer succeeded in making a big show of it right in the company’s main lobby just as the working day begun. Jackson had entered the building per usual but was stopped by security because they claimed he no longer had authority or permission to access the premises.

“This is ridiculous!” Jackson had yelled and the answer to that had been a staged march of the ‘new’ board of management that descended the grand stairs to where Jackson was. His eyes had narrowed as the group approached, a group which of course was headed by none other than Choi who proceeded to inform Jackson that he had been fired due to his lack of commitment and disgraceful actions of late. Needless to say, it ended in a shouting match which hit the headlines faster than one could say KZQ.

The result of it all: Jackson was to be found lounging about restlessly in Jinyoung’s studio as his friend made them coffee in the newly installed tiny makeshift kitchen. Oddly enough, Jinyoung’s studio proved to be a better location to hide out in that they had realised.

Number 1: it was right by and practically above a major subway station which was a transit hub for many connecting lines and was usually crowded most times of the day. It made it quite easy to slip out and get lost in the crowd. It also made disguising destinations quite easy.

Number 2: the studio itself had quite a few escape routes that Jackson could use if he wanted to get out of the place without using the front door.

Number 3 and most important of all, there was a police station less than 100 meters from the block’s entrance. It was just a command post but still, it was legal law enforcement which to the boys at that time, was exactly what they needed.

With all those reasons, Jackson was now practically living in Jinyoung’s studio. Enough stuff had been added to make the place liveable. It really was rather cosy and Jackson found he had actually missed this type of environment where it wasn’t always clean cut edges with glass, steel and concrete being the main accents of design. Because Jackson had spent quite a bit of time there already, he had explored Jinyoung’s artwork and collections. He noticed that Jinyoung produced things in batches. For example, there was a pile of oil paintings that had been framed, possibly displayed and now lay under a white muslin cloth to keep them from dust. There was another pile of watercolours, and then another of charcoal sketching, and of course, the various sculptors of plaster around the studio. Judging by the looks of things, Jinyoung’s current obsession was photography.

“So, Jinyoung,” said Jackson as he took a cup of hot coffee Jinyoung offered him, “what’s with the photos?”

Jinyoung sat next to Jackson on the couch, taking a slow sip of his favourite brew. “Hm?”

“Like, there aren’t any people in your photos, it’s all…”

Jinyoung couldn’t help but snicker. “Just because you’re such a people person, Jackson Wang, doesn’t mean that everyone sees only what you see.”

“Hah, please,” replied Jackson, leaning back into the couch with a roll of his shoulders, the cup of coffee cradled in his hands on his lap. “I know everyone sees differently so tell me, what do you see?”

Taking another long sip, Jinyoung mulled over how to give shape to the reasons for his current fascination. “It’s the river,” said Jinyoung, looking at one of the framed photographs on the wall that was his favourite of his collection. “The unceasing cycle of movement that flows from hidden sources, sources we never really get to see.” Then Jinyoung paused to chuckle because he realised how he might have sounded to Jackson. A glance at his friend and his suspicions were confirmed. Jackson was looking at him with an exasperation that Jinyoung knew came from his use of overly ‘artistic’ semantics.

“Forget I asked,” grumbled Jackson. Trying to keep up with Jinyoung waxing lyrical always made his head hurt.

Jinyoung laughed merrily, raising a hand to cover his mouth while his eyes crinkled shut. He knew Jackson too well to actually take offense and besides, Jinyoung didn’t want a Jackson who could debate philosophy and artistic value. Jinyoung treasured Jackson because he was Jackson, a direct individual who knew what he wanted, driven by ambition but yet exuded humility and sincerity to all those who cared enough to love him. It wasn’t that Jackson was beyond profound thoughts either. Sometimes the simple observations that came from Jackson made Jinyoung marvel at the truth and insight of it all.

“No two rivers are the same you know,” Jinyoung rephrased, “it’s always changing. Each has a different current, a different stillness, a different life. Mark my words, I’ll have a photo of every river in Korea and show you they’re all different. It’s fascinating.”

“You know what’s fascinating?”

“What?”

“That you’re in the corporate world and not some bohemian artist on the streets of Paris writing poems and composing songs about rivers,” Jackson informed Jinyoung seriously though he had a lopsided smirk on his lips.

Jinyoung gave Jackson’s shoulder a sharp slap in response which almost caused Jackson to drop his cup of coffee. “Hey, hey, hey! You went through a lot of trouble to make that! Why’d you want to floor to have it instead?”

“At least the floor doesn’t complain as much as you.”

Jackson arched an eyebrow. “If it does complain, you need to see a shrink. A real one,” said Jackson pointedly, before taking another gulp of his coffee. “Anyways, no use pretending. You love me complaining,” commented Jackson with a hugely over-exaggerated wink that had Jinyoung both wanting to laugh and groan at the lameness that came out of Jackson’s mouth.

It was nice to have conversations like this, light moments where their foremost worries did not revolve around KZQ but there was no escaping it. Every moment they waited, Choi seemed only to grow in malice. And frankly, Jackson was very tired of waiting.

“How much longer?” asked Jackson, fingers drumming on the sides of the ceramic cup. He didn’t bother to add any details to his question because Jinyoung would know exactly what he was talking about.

Jinyoung answered with a sigh. “Jaebum hyung says not much longer. Just one more thing has to happen and it’ll all be over.”

“Just one more?”

“One.”

“When?”

That was when Jinyoung turned to look at Jackson, wanting to assure his friend that everything was going to be fine, that Jackson’s parents death would be avenged, that Choi would suffer. But Jinyoung just could not guarantee that. It seemed like things were going according to plan but if the question was when the event they were waiting for would happen, Jinyoung answered Jackson honestly, “I don’t know.”

*             *             *

A few days later, Jackson was to be found by the Han River at the drinks stall that he often frequented. He was waiting for someone to arrive so to kill time, he ate some snacks and stared out through the clouded plastic sheets that shielded the owner’s stall and its patrons. To say that he was surprised to receive a call from Joon was an understatement. It was even more of an understatement to say that he hadn’t been waiting for Joon to contact him. For quite a while now, Joon had refused his calls or was simply out of reach ever since Jackson had confronted Choi directly at the funeral. And strangely enough, Jackson was worried.

The whole situation with Choi was quite odd. Jackson had come out and exposed himself as a larger target instead of running around on the sly, the result of which seems that they had come to an impasse of sorts – neither making any significant move. Choi probably guessed that Jackson had no evidence to link him to his father’s murder because if Jackson had, he’d have gone to the police already. At the same time, Choi finally had his hands on what he had desired his whole life – KZQ was finally his if not in name then in power. So amongst all that, Jackson had been pushed to the sidelines which, all things considered, wasn’t too bad. At least Jackson wasn’t living in constant fear of being found out though Choi still had no idea Wang Ryuji was Jackson’s father but… where’d they go from here? Jackson dearly wanted Choi to suffer but as JB said, they had to wait. They had to wait until they had all the cards they needed.

Looking up as someone lifted the plastic flaps to enter the warmed enclosure, Jackson gave a small smile when he recognised Joon, still with the trademark bleached blonde hair and sunglasses on a face that was even more chiselled and lined. Jackson realised he really hadn’t seen Joon in a while.

“Hey,” Jackson said in greeting.

“Hey,” Joon replied, dragging a stool over to Jackson’s table before ordering himself a drink.

Jackson waited until Joon poured himself a glass of soju and then raised his to clink their cups together for a toast before downing his drink in one go. Joon did likewise, a smirk appearing on the mans’ thinning lips.

“How’ve you been doing?” asked Jackson. He had realised for quite a while also that he longer hated Joon. Neither did bear any resentment towards the man whom he had initially blamed for forcefully turning his world upside down.

“Been alright,” Joon replied, pouring himself another drink. “The stuff at the company tho…”

“Yeah. It’s a mess.”

“We’ll get him. If that plan you told me about is anything to go by, we’ll get the bastard high and dry. With my PI friend working together with that JB of yours, it’s a done thing” Joon declared below his breath.

“Yeah,” was Jackson’s only response. Everyone told him to be patient and he was trying. Man, he was trying but at the back of his mind, Jackson knew that it would take very very little for him to snap – to lose it.

Jackson looked up when Joon cleared his throat in a gruff voice. “Actually, I’ve got something for you.”

“What?”

Not saying anything, Joon took out a brown bulging envelope that was eerily reminiscent of the one Joon had first handed to Jackson. That first envelope had contained the truth of Jackson’s past, a truth Jackson then had been forced to handle and come to terms with, a truth that had changed his existence and almost took the life of one of his best friends. It was no surprise that Jackson reacted warily to this current one that Joon laid on the table. Joon saw the open aversion on Jackson’s face and could not help but chuckle.

“Hey, this one ain't anything like the previous,” Joon assured Jackson.

Not really believing the man, Jackson narrowed his eyes and tilted his head backwards a tad just to show Joon that he was hesitant about this. But Jackson took the envelope anyways, feeling the surprisingly heavy weight of it in his hand. Unlike the previous time though, Joon urged Jackson to open the package and again, narrowing his eyes at Joon, Jackson did as he was asked. Reaching in, Jackson pulled out what seemed to be a bunch of old photographs, letters and upon peering into the envelope, even a few old mini looking video tapes, the kind that had been used for early versions of video recorders.

“What’s all-?” Jackson began to ask but his words died when he realised what the top most photograph contained.

It was a picture of three people, well, two people and one small one. He recognised the woman for though he remembered only meeting her once, her features had been branded into his memory while the man, the man he recognised only from the various photos he had been able to obtain through newspaper clippings and the media. The baby they so lovingly held had to be… him. He glanced up at Joon, eyes wide as he tried to both ask more questions and at the same time, say thank you but he couldn’t look at Joon for long as his eyes were drawn once more to the photograph of his lost family that he held in his hands. After what seemed like long moments in which Jackson tried to swallow multiple times to keep his emotions in check, his trembling fingers moved to shuffle the next photo into view. This one showed his mother laughing as she held his tiny hands in support as he seemed to be toddling. Then there was another and yet another.

“I…” breathed Jackson, throat clamping up and tears gathering in his eyes. “This…” he tried again, gulping hard but could not speak.

“Found all these from friends and relatives,” Joon told him kindly. “Thought you’d like something to remember her by.”

“… and…” breathed Jackson half in hope and fear at what Joon’s response might be, “… the videos?”

Joon grinned. “You’ll have to work around that but yes, they are videos of your family.”

There was no stopping the tears that escaped his eyes now. “J-joon,” stammered Jackson wanting to thank Joon but he had to bow his head, biting his lower lip hard to stop himself from sobbing.

Joon didn’t need the words. He knew. He knew how much Jackson lost. He knew how much Jackson wanted to remember. He knew this would help Jackson move on. To put an end to Jackson’s tearful attempts to speak words of gratitude, he reached over and tussled Jackson’s hair. It was a gesture that might have been taken as condescending but at that moment, it felt right because to Joon, Jackson was always that 10-year-old boy he had pulled out of the car on that fateful day.

Hiccupping, Jackson pressed and rubbed the heels of his palms into his eyes. This gift, for it was a gift, was so unexpected that he felt eternally in Joon’s debt. He realised right then and there that Joon actually cared for him as a person and not just as a pawn in a large-scaled revenge plot that had taken over their lives. Shaking his head, he gave Joon a bright tremulous smile which Joon answered with a grin.

“You’ll be alright, boy.”

“Em,” nodded Jackson as an affirmative. It would take a while to come to terms with his past but he was on his way, especially accompanied by brothers he had grown to love and cherish more than his own life, and not to mention his godfather back in Singapore whom he had been unjustly ignoring for the past months – there was a lot to live for and he would live for they gave him reason to continue breathing.

After a while, they finally paid the bill and walked out of the stuffy plastic sheets into the open air. Clutching the precious package under his coat, Jackson seemed to have grown younger in a matter of hours. He had walked into the stall as a man burdened by the weight of a mission that was too big for him, helpless at being thrown into what could only described as a maze of confusion, doubt and suspicion, but now, Jackson felt as if a part of him had been restored. Patched up, so to speak. For the first time in a while, he felt that there was a future to look forward to, a future beyond vengeance, beyond Choi. There was no reason for him to peg his own existence on the scoundrel who murdered his father, Jackson realised. And he had Joon to thank for this timely reminder.

They stood facing each other for a while, a comfortable understanding between the two of what the moment had meant to each of them, a moment that honoured the memory of Jackson’s parents.

“See you around?” asked Jackson.

“Sure thing, kid,” Joon replied, though he seemed to be thinking hard about something.

Nodding, Jackson was about to turn and leave when Joon’s arm reached out to pull him back.

“Actually, hang on,” Joon said below his breath, using the pressure of his hand on Jackson’s shoulder to head towards the nearest spot that offered some form of concealment.

“Take this too,” said Joon in a hushed voice, shoving another packet as discreetly as he could into Jackson’s arms.

“What is this?” asked Jackson, curious because if Joon had fully intended for him to have it, then he’d probably have given it to Jackson in the stall along with the envelope of photos. So what was this? Why was it different? Why had Joon hesitated and seemed to decide on impulse?

“It’s something your father gave to me,” Joon replied.

Hearing his father mentioned, Jackson jostled with the package, wanting to take a look at what it concealed but Joon’s hand hastily stopped him. “Not in the open, boy,” hissed Joon, glancing around him warily. “It’s a gun.”

Jackson’s eyes widened in shock. A gun! How in the world had Joon managed to get it into the country? And why had his father given Joon a gun in the first place? Sensing that Jackson had a lot of questions, Joon gave a brief explanation of how Jackson’s father had given it to Joon when he had been Jackson’s father’s bodyguard.

“I fired it once or twice my whole life I think. Never really needed it, but it did save our asses. Anyways, it’s more a keepsake, a momento than anything else,” Joon patted Jackson’s shoulder. “And I wanted you to have it because now you have things you want to protect, right?”

Jackson blinked. Was Joon implying that he actually use this gun? To shoot someone? Guns could kill! And it was against the law, and-

Once again, Joon read Jackson’s thoughts through his expressions. “You really should control your face, Jackson,” Joon huffed. As endearing as it was, there were times when being so easy to read would not do him any good whatsoever. Sighing deeply, Joon continued, “I just wanted you to have it. It belonged to your father, after all.”

Jackson opened his mouth to reply but could not think of what to say really. Thank you for giving me a gun? That just sounded wrong in so many ways. But what Joon did give him were concrete memories of his parents which Jackson had thought was something he would never ever have – not since his mother had passed away. Giving Joon a sincere smile, Jackson confessed, “Joon, I have to be honest. There were times I disliked you, hated you even. But I don’t anymore. You looked after my father, protected him, cared for him, risked your life for him. It was wrong of me to hate you. I-”

But Jackson couldn’t continue. His words were cut off by Joon tugging him into a fierce hug. Strong sinewed arms wrapped around Jackson’s body in an effort to communicate what Joon could not. He wanted to tell Jackson that the words he had just uttered meant a lot to him. It had been a long lonely journey for Joon for he had to always watch his back, afraid that they were going to manage to kill him but at the same time, he had to survive if only because he knew the truth about Jackson’s father’s death. It had been a weight that he had carried for so long and now, just hearing Jackson say those words made everything seem justified. “Kid,” Joon choked out, “your father would be proud of you. Trust me.”

Wrapped within Joon’s bear hug, Jackson nodded his head against Joon’s shoulder. “And Joon,” Jackson said after a pause, speaking right into Joon’s coat but he knew Joon could hear him, “thank you.”

Joon pulled his lips tight because of the surge of emotion he was feeling. ‘He’s a fine boy, Ryuji’ thought Joon to himself. ‘In so many ways, he’s just like you.’

Taking a deep breath, Joon tightened his arms one more time and then released Jackson who smiled up at him. “See you around,” Jackson said.

“Yeah,” replied Joon, who then gave Jackson’s shoulder a push as a sign to start walking. Jackson understood that Joon wanted to watch him leave so with a smile and nod, Jackson left, now holding two parcels cradled carefully under his jacket.

Joon did not shift his eyes away from Jackson until the boy was out of sight. He felt lighter in many ways and it seemed as if he were experiencing the world anew again. He breathed in deep and caught sight of the Han River just as the sun was setting. How long had it been since he allowed himself to stop and just appreciate the sights, sounds and experiences the world had to offer? Far too long, thought Joon, so he wandered down to the riverbank to take a stroll along the water. In the fading light, he took out a photograph from his pocket. Out of all the photos and memorabilia Joon had given Jackson, Joon had kept one to himself. It was a photograph of Joon, little Jackson and Jackson’s father. The two adults had their arms around each other’s shoulders while Jackson was perched right between them. It was one of those candid moment shots when the lens captured emotion and movement as it happened. Joon still remembered that day. It was Jackson’s fifth birthday party and Joon and Jackson’s father had decided to give the little prince a ride on the ‘throne’. He could almost hear the laugh-

In the next instant, all air was punched out of his body as he rocked with the momentum of an unexpected force. Gasping, Joon’s knees gave out and he collapsed unto the grassy river bank. He couldn’t breathe but the sensation of something seeping into the front and back of his shirt made him draw a shaky hand across his chest to see what it was. Blood.

Then Joon snickered as his eyes caught sight of the photograph he still held in his hands. ‘Well whadya know… they got me, Ryu…’

Joon’s body stilled and sagged. Then an opportune gust of wind blew the photograph out from fingers that would move no more.


End file.
